Growing Old

fall spirea

Gone the glow of verdant youth,

Fragile joints replace fresh stems;

Roughened bark succeeds the smooth,

Strength and power, spring’s bold gems,

Falter with the frost of age –

Stumble in the autumn breeze;

But, as Time turns weathered page,

Beauty brings us to our knees.

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7 comments on “Growing Old

  1. Heidi Viars says:

    This speaks to me, Ms. Melody! Not sure if it makes me smile or cry :/ … blessings to you, dear friend!

  2. Gallivanta says:

    Was this written just for me? πŸ˜‰ I certainly feel those fragile joints.

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