Age Is But a Page

You frowned at that fraudster called age, The fiend that lets no one sleep light, In book of life age is a page. A child lets life a free passage, Flying off in a fancy flight, And this creature’s caught in a cage. Grown up when knows, hedges on hedge, Balks at calling this boaster’s blight, Life’s a long book, age passing page. Pushing up life’s hackney carriage, Reaping fruits, in fair-weather flight, He copes with that impostor’s rage. When old enough, bit of a sage, In vain trying life’s wrongs to right, He prepares to pen life’s last page. But you lived in heaven’s image, Fought your best to give age good fight, And frowned on that fraudster’s false rage, Proved, life’s a book, age but a page. ______________________________________________________ Inspired by my father who led an exemplary life and died at the ripe and rewarding age of 102 ______________________________________________________ Villanelle | 01.10.08 |