Shroud of Lace

To watch them pass on by So pensive, grave, with winter in the lace That shrouds each year that time cannot deny A springtime switched to autumn graces Has furrowed in their seasoned faces And covers gray of silken hair While all the world strolls by in haste With a sense of reverence in the air She lifts her languid eye A wrinkled brow portrayed Where lines of time and experience lie Where every movement displays The falling leaves of yesterday Before the tears of sweet despair Were spread upon the April day With a sense of reverence in the air Composed they stroll, arm in arm, thigh to thigh Some say their worth has spent its day She holds her self in calm reply His world once used him by swift pace Wisdom disregards the youthful chase They walk to buy some flowers fair Their youth is put to rest today With a sense of reverence in the air No tear should trickle from your eyes No need to mourn for yesteryear For sagely knowing what never dies With sense of reverence in the air ______________________________________________________________ Inspired by Catie's contest Ballade Boomba