I am needing the solace of my courtyard
When will life’s tasks become too hard
Am I finally to be considered too old
Despite my partial return from the cold
I am not to worry nor feel sorry
The winding road home is in no hurry
And I detour off my rocky path
To rewrite my wordless epitaph
Here in the comfort of my favourite Cafe
With a sweet cake and a soothing coffee
And enjoy a chat with the friendly waitress Alex
Then I recite this poem, she smiles, and we both relax
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020


