Changing Scenes


I long for strength as creeping age

Keeps signaling tomorrow’s way

Of changing scenes; the present stage

On which I consciously must play

Is yet alive, while I must strive

To memorize my lines today.

I fear not age, but Time’s neglect

Of my own body’s freedom sweet,

Yet move free-willed and circumspect

With purpose Time couldn’t defeat,

Beyond, the snow would somehow show

A path to guide my faltering feet.

And if I should reminisce, speak

Sometimes of happenings in the past

When spring of youth was at its peak

And Time seemed not to pass as fast,

Think not of me as one to be

Approaching wintry age at last.

For down the stretch between extremes

Of seasons that must ever change,

Fond memories like pleasant dreams

Illuminate life’s gloomier range —

A light in that foreboding night

Of solitude so downright strange!



Awesome! And thanks for connecting. Incidentally, as you might be aware, I am a novelist, with three novels to my credit, titled, ALL ABOUT BRIAN, THE LION AND THE SUN, BETTER LAZTE THAN NEVER. Please join my network and keep up the good work.

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