Upon my tiptoes, I gaze through a window, the window of my mind.
I pull back the curtain, peer from a partially drawn blind.
Before me lay this youthful beauty, perfection in every line,
And standing there beside her was the old keeper of all time.
He swiftly knelt beside her, and stroked her heaving chest,
Carefully caressed every curve, and sagged her gentle breast.
He cast his spell upon her, aging her as if fine wine.
Left some thoughtful wrinkles, added character in each and every line.
Bestowed upon her all that wisdom, more than she had ever known before.
Brought her many pleasures, also heartaches, several score.
Held her tightly about the waist, now broader at the beam.
Added some weight here and there, not as much as it might seem.
He gradually drooped her shoulders; shiny hair now turns to gray.
Faded memories of life's passing parade now help to pass her day.
Her youthful pace is throttle now, her feet shuffle slowly across the floor.
Though still a thing of beauty, that beauty is different than before.
Time for her is now slipping away, slowly heading for life’s stage door.
The journey has left her exhausted, no longer willing to fight the fight, but unwilling to beg for more.
Time had been an exciting lover, but she will not love another day.
She lies prone upon the sheet as Time exits the stage. I watch with amazement as the scene just fades away.