I have been going to my Friday Writing Group for a while now and I still look forward to it. We all read a story we've written and make the usual polite noises of appreciation, but we're all amateurs and the stories are usually pretty ordinary.
On a very rare occasion, someone's story will strike a chord and the appreciation of it will be genuine. It happened to me yesterday. The topic was 'No Turning Back' and I resurrected a poem I wrote years ago about Grey Nomads. It was about retirement and I was suggesting that when you go into retirement, there's no turning back. I know, it's a bit of a stretch but I've been looking for an opportunity to use the poem and this seemed appropriate.
Something about the poem hit the spot and I had the best applause I've ever had. Some people asked for a copy and that's never happened before. So, here it is:
NO TURNING BACK APRIL 29, 2022
When your days of toil are over and it’s time to take a break
There are options to consider and decisions you must make
For years you’ve spent each waking hour in trying to earn a crust
And now you’ve got to fill your days or your brain will start to rust.
Perhaps it’s time to take up bowls or join a cycling club
Or learn to play the oboe, or take refuge in the pub
Some take delight in reading books or watching DVDs
But I’m sure you’ll find you’ll soon get tired of nothing more than these.
Some folks take up cruising on the ocean wide and blue
And you might think that could be fun but it might be boring too
Some learn to use the internet, work out the family tree
Others think it’s pretty smart to get one more degree.
Your house is worth a million and that’s a tidy sum
And you know the kids have worked it out, although they’re playing dumb
The grand-kids talk of Disneyland when Nan and Pop are dead
You’re worth more to them when you’re gone, a truth that must be said.
Each time they come to visit you, only once in a blue moon
You can see the dollar signs in their eyes and they think, Will it be soon?
They look at you to calculate how long you might survive
Yes, how much longer will you live, when you’re only sixty-five.
You know there’s just one answer to make your last years fun
Sell the house, buy a ‘van and let the good times run
Join the Nomad army, grab freedom on the road
No more wasted afternoons, no lawns to be mowed.
With your Cruiser and your Jayco, your days will be your own
You can drive or you can sit around, your worries will have flown
You can feel the joys of this brown land and see what you can see
With new-made friends to pass the time and fill the hours with glee.
Live life as it was meant to be, with countless things to do
With every day a new delight and a new adventure too
There’s lots in this great country to make us shout and cheer
So pack your bags, hitch up the van - it’s off for another year.
There’s just one thing I need to say to emphasise this notion
Point your ‘van and do your best to reach the Indian Ocean
It won’t be highways all the way, some roads will be a track
Just set your course, trust to luck, and remember - no turning back.
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