Victor Buhagiar Poet Free verse

As I Grow Old

The fading ancient sun casts long shadows before me,
as I shuffle slowly and sluggishly down asymmetrical lanes.
How age mellows me like ripe watermelon, squeezing me
until all my ambrosial juices run acidulously dry as dust.
 
Unsatisfied desire, mental torment and general malaise
conquer my better moods of love, devotion and quietude.
Straggling with widespread dishevelment and disillusions
I try in vain to set an orderly pattern to my straying aims,
hoping some guardian angel were to take my shaking hands
to lead me onwards steadily towards some well defined goal.
 
Mark my furrowed forehead, tap solidly at my potential energy
fill my withering wrinkles with some sense or empirical reasoning,
but at least give me one essential gift, that a grumbler I'll never be.

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Harry Horsman January 31, 2023 at 9:40 PM Taking in one of your earlier posts, Victor, to be honest the feeling of your poetry, mirrors my own. Your word though superior. Harry

Unseeking Seeker October 17, 2022 at 8:51 PM Meld with whatever draws you, Victor, dissolve in it’s embrace, sunsets, birds chirping, tree leaves rusting, meditation… awaken bliss in the cave of your heart. In silence.

Sara Kendrick September 17, 2021 at 8:12 AM The desire to not be a grumbler is a great one. I always asked for patience but I still am imperfect in that area and right now don't want anything bad happening to help me get perfect with patience. I enjoyed reading this one today. Sara

Linda Alice Fowler October 11, 2020 at 7:17 PM I love your last stanza Victor. So many 'elderly' become opinionated Grumpy Guses. Linda

Angela Crabtree October 9, 2020 at 4:46 PM Nobody likes a grumbler ;)

Jennifer Proxenos October 5, 2020 at 12:01 PM You are a poet Victor and poets don't age, their hearts and minds stay young and those two organs are very important - your heart writes such romantic poems and you soul sings them, that is not growing old! Blessings and hugs, Jennifer.

Ann Gilmour October 4, 2020 at 4:20 AM Oh Victor you have taken those words right out of my mouth, but hey ~ as long as we can stay positive and young at heart then all will be fine~ hopefully ~ for our poetry takes us to another place and I am so grateful for that escape... With kindest thoughts Ann xx

Gershon Wolf October 1, 2020 at 2:23 PM Are you sure that you are not writing about me, Victor?! lol. ~ Not Complaining, gw

Besma Riabi Dziri October 1, 2020 at 2:46 AM Thinking not of age.. spilling not a rage.. sure I am aging.. but still the mind not conceiving! Let alone the heart still young believing.. my words unable to compose a word on aging. So beautiful and so heartfelt! Every single word resonating with me as I am doubtless walking on that very same path.. just don't want to think of it.. wishing always to have that inner peace.. acceptance.. contentment.. I liked so much the whole poem, your feel and thoughts.. especially the last line! Great work

Joanna Daniel October 1, 2020 at 12:18 AM You have described old age perfectly, Victor, no grumblings:)

Anne-Lise Andresen September 30, 2020 at 12:05 PM - You're young at heart ... and in your thoughts ... your pen proves it, Victor :) - hugs // Anne-Lise :)

Evelyn Judy Buehler September 29, 2020 at 10:11 PM Your poem portrays the challenges of aging with fine language and imagery. The youth have their challenges, too. Every age is a good age, is what I believe. Blessings. :)

Nette Onclaud September 29, 2020 at 3:45 PM tenderly relayed with soulful imprints...victor, you found the fountain of youth whether you like it or like it...huggs

Darlene De Beaulieu September 29, 2020 at 11:52 AM Hello Victor, a beautiful poem. I let my inner child out. i have always felt that age is just a number. Enjoy your day my friend.

Eve Roper September 29, 2020 at 10:45 AM Great imagery, but I am always told, You're as old as you feel. Hugs Eve

Angela Crabtree September 29, 2020 at 8:14 AM I'm glad you're taking this with stride. A great write that brings a lot to think about as we age. Peace, Angie

Vijay Pandit September 29, 2020 at 6:02 AM Enjoyed the depth of your introspection that many can relate to as they age. Emotions and feelings adorn your poem, Victor--great ending,

Tom Cunningham September 29, 2020 at 6:00 AM They say wisdom and experience comes with a price, slower mobility and to round it off a few aches and pains. Tom

John Lawless September 29, 2020 at 5:30 AM oh, grumble Victor, grumble...it is the lion's roar muffled by wisdom....but then again it has been said the old age is a privilege not afford to all