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When the strong become frail
Sitting in your chair,
wiser
and lighter than ever before.
Spending your day with nods and waves.
Your silver tongue now cool mint at best.
You are still fighting.
Time is quicker for you,
Your time is being spent.
Though the days seem longer and your actions slower.
You are older, more forgiving.
Maybe you have lost all that fire, and bite.
Lost all the things that we loved/Hated/Knew to be you.
You are lighter than before.
You fought challenges of independence,
standing ones ground and making one count.
The once rock is now a pebble.
but still a fighter,
still fighting,
there is still battle to be won.
When the strong become fraglie
Your poem certainly gives account of graduating old age and a more of another world than this world perspective. I like your poem. May we all live to be 86 years and more.
http://www.postpoems.org/authours/a.griffiths57
Thank you your saying you
Thank you for saying you like the poem.
I appreciate your comment. Any ideas on whether I should add to the poem to finish it off or do you think it is Fine?
I love it. I think it
I love it. I think it captures the essence of 'passing on' just beautifully. I have witnessed it many times, and there is a mystic beauty in it if you look closely. They are little by little, going from one dimension to the next---of which we can only wonder about. There can be many wonderful insights for those who take a side veiw. ~blessings~
.................
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
Many thanks for the
Many thanks for the feedback.
Any thoughts of whether the poem had an unfinished feel to it?
Unfinished Feel?
You abandoned the premise - loss of "weight" in size and decision abiility. All the battles have been fought won/lost/left haning - at around 55 the sweats end, the hormones are fewer in production, and the world gets "even". No conflict, a desire for all things peaceful and "right" take precedence over struggle. After sixty years, the emotions flatline, there is no need for too much cynicism, but freedom of choice becomes a major cause of distress. Loss of independence is like losing the war, the country, and half the world. The need to acquire "things" also fades, having bought most of it twice already - nice theme - the ending deviates though from "weight" and respect for the aged's opinion, philosophy, input - allets