LB (June 15,1947 / Texas)

From Beginning To End

For every beginning, there is an end
the space in between we must fill in.
With youthful skin, a fiery lust for life
celebrating each New Year with delight.

As each year passes we are aging
skin wrinkles, muscles tremble.
Synapses stop, hands not so nimble
eyes don't see well, bones do creak.

Time marches on, we become weak
slow and frail, life becomes bleak.
Then like sand in an hourglass
our lifes grains fall no more.

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Comments (5)

Now here we differ fellow gemini poet lady. My grandmother was 73 when she popped her clogs and a Peter Pan to the end. Beauty is in the eye of the be older! imo. Grinning childishly, peter pan too, Tai
I do notice that as you get older the time seems to go much faster and the brain much slower, and there's nothing you can do about it, is there! Nice write here. Love Ernestine XXX
time certainly goes forward but only through total immersion in the present which never ends a fine poem
This is very nice. Sometimes I'd like to dig my heels in and stop (at least slow down) time for awhile. Nice work. sincerely, Mary
Yea, life goes on as it never ends...and one stops. Nice poem, , , Lady blue. Peace.