Tag Archives: retirement

Reprise: That Lion There

11 May


That Lion There


My dad often made the statement we’ve got this retirement thing bass ackwards. He worked hard all his life, and when he retired and was ready to travel, his body was worn out. The things he might have done, like scale mountains, were no longer within his range of possibility.

On that note, having reached the edge of that downward precipice myself, I think I have to agree. But not only because of the physical ability at stake, but the incredible resources of our lions and lionesses now wandering about the world –– bored and feeling useless.

Is that all there is? sang Peggy Lee.

What a waste, if only from the standpoint of experience and wisdom! Less likely to make the mistakes of youth. Things like rash decisions and impetuous reactions. Weighing the pros and the cons, and not so entangled in the jot and tittle of minutiae.

Imagine old farts like me, with nothing to lose, donning combat fatigues and armed with the weapons of war and replacing our young people on the battle fields? Conflicts might take a little longer, and a charge up a hill might need to be rethought, but at least our youth can still look forward to a long future.

It’s worth thinking about.


That Lion There

by L. Stewart Marsden

That lion there,
the one with splotchy, mangy hair
who lies in shade far from his lair
and pants last labored breaths of air —

Once was bold and fierce and strong
and where he walked the wary throng
of meaty prey gave way and long they
watched lest he should charge their way.

He once was young, a cub just born
who clung to mother’s teats and wore no
caution nor no wisdom yet —
essentials that would help him get to lionhood.

And if he could, that lion there
would soon return to those times where
his strength and youth were fresh and fair
and he could do whatever he would damn well do.

Copyright © by Lawrence S. Marsden, 25 March, 2014





Time on my hands

11 Apr


I’ve got time on my hands
and don’t know what to do;
it’s a luxury and
also a burden, too.

I feel obligated
to do or act or – what?
Why this inner discomfort?
Why this need to plot?

If it’s this turmoilish to tarry,
then, how to retire?
How big an adjustment?
Why not just expire?

Go out with a bang
At the peak of the race?
Careen off the road
At an incredible pace?

Or, could it be
that slowing down’s not so bad?
Giving time to reflect
on the time that I’ve had?

I suppose, in itself,
that might not be so great –
looking back at the stumbles,
and all the mistakes.

At any rate,
I’ve got time on my hands,
Don’t know quite what to do –
It’s a luxury, and,
a bit of a burden, too.