WHEN I'M OLD


  Walking on the beach, young with many dreams,


  Hand in hand, alive at sixteen.


  School dances, a roller rink where we skated,


  At parties we saw each other, a long time ago.


  Showed up at your house, honking a horn,


  A father came to greet me, his hand on the door.


  Just a boy as a young girl were you,


  Some years ago, in a town we both knew.


   More than forty years later, again we walk together,


   We still have our dreama, hand in hand, not sixteen.


   Maybe some aches and pains, scars that remain,


   Your hair changes color, less for me remains.


   We once were children, at times a little childish 
  We seemed,

   When I'm old, will you still see in me the same?


   Will you walk with me, hand in hand,


   Back on that beach, as the sun slowly sets.

       Keith Garrett