Below is the poem entitled 90 years younger which was written by poet
ZVARAYA. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
Read Poems by
As my old eyes search for the setting sun,
My mind is at work,
Mending the million fragmented memories.
The long arm of my mind,
Retrieves the first dusty diary,
from the tallest of shelves.
Now ninety years have passed,
My weary body struggling to stand on its own.
But the strength of the heart is always unfading.
Now it is stronger than it was before,
It stands on its own,
as it searches everywhere for your voice.
My treasure chest is full,
of the dozens of letters you wrote for me .
Every time I read them my memories grow young,
My heart was ever well living in the velvet of this love.
Then came our first night together.
Lonely in love, I could not wait for you,
to rest your head on my chest,
under the full sight of the moon,
You reading from the book of your future and dreams.
I feel now the night we first made love,
It all started with a quiet conversation in a candlelit room,
I didn`t want to let go,
The glow of your beauty,
Eclipsed the light of the candle,
The flame of our desire flying.
Now I watch the candle come to life in the night,
Its flame gives the reflection of your beauty,
I carry the immortal faint smile,
Watch it until it dies out.
In my salad days,
I saw a lot of beautiful girls, but none compared to you,
It really made me dig deep in the mine of my emotions,
For that something I only found in you.
Sometimes I play some old love songs,
And let my mind quietly wonder,
In the forest of the lost memories.
I try to bring together the million pieces every afternoon .
But as the sun sets,
the almost complete mirror falls to the ground,
to a million pieces again.
Because this is the most precious of the times,
we spent together,
Gazing with relief and sympathetic eyes,
at the tired setting sun,
It was romantic like a poem,
A tuneful song.
I see the young generation of today,
They try serenading.
But their songs are not as deep as ours .
Not everlasting as the ones we sang.
They also talk and walk,
The Romeo and Juliet way,
But it is not as old and untamed,
As the original by Shakespeare.
The way you talked, smiled,
and sometimes remained quiet gazing, defined art.
In your own way you were a magician,
Everything you touched turned gold,
You touched my heart,
Now care more about your grandchildren.
You etched something,
On the deepest part of my heart,
Every day I fall in love with you.
It is as if I am sad now.
It is just that I want you to know ;
I am the luckiest man on this world.
May be I just want to get hold of something ,
Something more than memories.
Even though you are now gone,
As I promised;
I will jealously hold on to these memories.
To this love, old and deep.
I hope there is place up there,
Where we can hold each other again.
I am not grieved.
No hard feelings for Mother Nature.
She gave us more than she can take from us.
It seems I am now waiting for death.
I hope you carried those cherry moments with you,
Because soon somewhere we shall meet,
And fall in love again.