Aging (Sonnet)
Of youth, I dare not say ado, yet wait
upon the willing heart that I be spared
that visit standing at the Pearly Gates,
I bide my time, not hurried to go there.
For on this Earth I tarry not to die,
believing soul and body to unite,
hence, the tongue in silence gives no cry,
with my Lord I stand in glorious light.
Grim Reaper, oh dreaded one, be not proud
for many, not I alone, must now fight
to keep our youth in the maddening crowd,
and know that never we should fear the night.
Alas, 'tis not from aging I dispair
but from telling mirror I must beware.
Copyright © Tamara Hillman | Year Posted 2005
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