(Some particular days you wake up feeling old. So, no funny business today. Sorry.)
Year Upon Year. I still like to stroll 'neath the blue late summer sky Though days run short and autumn's chill feels nigh, Time was when I'd stride easy towards my leafy glade, Nowadays a few more slow and stately steps are made. This cool bower's perfectly placed for stop and rest, Of late I feel this truth in my bones, and in my chest, This stout tree I lean on now I've long thought as my own, From young stripling and sapling, together we have grown. As I look above those old signs are seen, Subtle curls of gold amidst the sea of green, Soon 'nough even summer's greenest leaf must fall, Tomorrow, or two months hence, autumn reaps 'em all. Don't get me wrong, I'm ageing happily every day I get, Still, the years weigh and weary, we accumulate regret, Every tree has twists and turns, Nature shapes and forms, Each tree has boughs bent, bowed, scars from recent storms. Will we weather another winter, to see in the spring? Older, wisened to the fact the rose holds within a sting? So take a little time to remember blooms cut cruelly short, Long life holds more sorrow than we once young 'uns thought.
Today, a thought for Barb.