by Francis Jock

Created on: November 23, 2010

Forty is a harbor to find,
Where youth yields its carefree ways to time.
Stroll slowly down that gentle path,
Find shelter there from youth's aftermath.

For time is a river than man cannot master,
The harder one tries, the river flows faster.
Flowing faster and faster from source to bend,
We struggle to swim, or sink in the end.

Beyond lies the ocean of age in a sea,
Where future is tossed on waves, endlessly.
Rising and falling, you'll sail toward the sun,
Pushed by fair winds, or storms for some.

Until your journey has come to its end,
Sail on, O Captain! The stars do portend.
Heed not the Sirens, or fleece laced with gold,
Chart sixty and eighty, sound havens foretold.

For Forty is but a Port of Call,
A place and time for one and for all,
To reflect on your charts and check on your stores,
For the voyage ahead to uncertain shores.

There's no going back,
No, youth's voyage is done.
Raise full canvas now,
Set sail for the sun.

Be bold and courageous,
Keep faith without end.
Chart well Sixty and Eighty,
Ports calling, my friend.

Shout out Farewell to Youth!
Let us celebrate this day.
For Forty's a safe harbor,
No shoal for dismay.

Learn more about this author, Francis Jock.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.