The Twilight Years

 

Should I go home to die

or remain here to lie

Shangri-la does not exist

so why stay here and persist

 

Should I return to my home county

as if reclaiming some lost bounty

Could there be a corner waiting for me

in the shade of an old oak tree

 

Three score years and ten

and along comes this yen

To abandon a peripatetic existence

and live off a pension and subsistence

 

Would I be content to put up my feet

and settle for my final seat

Is the best all now done

is this the end of all the fun

 

Or should I shake off this lethargy

and stop pondering on purgatory

I think I might postpone this thought

for as yet I have not been caught