Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Mirror Sestet


Alas, my friends, I’m not that lass,
That lass that stole poor hearts…alas.
No more.  I’m nothing like before.
Before I knew it all.  No more.
Now I’m as happy as a cow,
A cow in gorgeous pastures. Now

My wits are gone, but I don’t cry,
Cry out not, “Help! Old age! Oh my!”
Instead I hum and bob my head,
Head toward the silliness instead.
I say, “My youthful wisdom, bye.                             
Bye, silly. Forties – sweet!” say I.

Live for the Love of it,
The Happy Amateur

Written for Poetic Bloomings 
Image source: Google