They ask but comfort in their fading years,
They crave, not pity, but a helping hand
Now, in their loneliness; the kindly voice that cheers,
The touch of friendship, hearts that understand.

Mark well, the lines upon each ageing face;
Time-etched with toil and deeper grooved with sorrow;
Yet, down the empty days, they find no place
Of human warmth, and there is no tomorrow.

To ease the burden of this cold despair,
Yield them one moment of each passing day;
Take some of happiness for them to share ......
Your own old age is not so far away.


"Senior Citizen"

Oldies' Old Eyes



Other work by my father, Namur King:



Parting 1940

Coal Patterns

Brick Horizons

Remembrance Day

To Be As One With God

The Pharos (Dover Castle)

Today has never been before

St. Paul's (London May 11th 1941)

Ode To A Snowdrop During Wartime

Thoughts on the Immutability of Matter

Ode to the Full Moon during an ďAlertĒ, 1942

Ode to Goldie, the Golden Eagle on its 10th Day of Freedom



A - Z








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