Age

So my age begins to mocks me,

like little gremlins prancing,

playfully delighted at my expense.

Softly aching muscles whisper small complaints.

With subtle creaks and muted groans,

meloncholy that they are no longer fleet.



Slowly I relinquish my meddlesome nowadays,

for memories richly dabbled

with sunlit flashes of summer heat.

Rowdy children entice me,

their happy shrieks compeling revelry,

asking me to join their joyous rabble.



I obey and then I dance again with fairy queens.

In fearless contemplation,

I dream of bygone passion plays,

where knights can battle fiendish foes,

and a milkmaid wins a prince's heart,

all willing subjects in my world's creation.



Then, leisurely with patience,

the present interupts my timeless fancys.

Worry and accountability, again, become the mantra of my day.

And so the weary mind, adult and all forlorn,

can only look back wistfully at those

sensual and unreal days of childhood's happy schemes.
























View dragongreeneyes's Full Portfolio
Georgina Kuckenbaker's picture

Don't sweat time's swift feet, SQUEEZE THE DAY, it tastes so sweet! We should look at life from the inside out, not from the outside in. I feel your pain though...the worst part of aging for me is forgetting details of memories from childhood. Seems that the brain only stores so much! Well if I remember correctly... I liked your poetry very much! Hee Hee :o))

Rachel Evans's picture

beautiful imagery

Edwin Robinette's picture

Another great description by you!! I try to keep the age thing out of mind, so far, so good! I can't stay 30 forever!! Or can I, Dick Clark does!! LOL Anyway, good writing!! Eddie