Stephen has submitted the first post for this topic.

Hey ya'll, here's my take on turning 70 (excerpted from "Old Poets" by Joyce Kilmer).

…
There should be a club for poets
Who have come to seventy year.
They should sit in a great hall drinking
Red wine and golden beer.
 
They would shuffle in of an evening,
Each one to his cushioned seat,
And there would be mellow talking
And Silence rich and sweet.
 
There is no peace to be taken
With poets who are young,
For they worry about the wars to be fought
And the songs that must be sung.
 
But the old man knows that he's in his chair
And that God's on His throne in the sky,
So he sits by the fire in comfort
And he lets the world spin by.
 
[And here's to you, Ms. Mitchell!]

Below is Ed's "photo" comment on Steve's poem:

Photo is of a residential street in Berkeley Springs, WV that kept the tree, and let cars drive around it. No widening of the road on the other side, either. Joyce Kilmer (of ‘Trees’) would have been proud.