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Gnarled By Age Knurls the Grip

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Gnarled to Knurled

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Babies and young saplings are silky smooth, adorned by curls and twirls, unfurled. But age assails and weather beats brows to dry, and wrinkles the smooth with furrows and lines. Twists and contortions compels, yields, and compliances reshapes the surface to bumpy, with knots and gnarls, knurling a rough grip, to deny the slip that smooth young skin and wills are prone to show when asked to follow a lead. The rough and worn acrimony of old age, despite the crabby, cantankerous snarls, can be gripped and convinced to comply and yield. It is the gnarls of age that knurls the grip.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 6/14/2017 4:14:00 PM
I really liked this one, John. I wrote an early poem entitled "These Hands" A little different than yours. I love your descriptions.
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John Anderson
Date: 6/14/2017 5:04:00 PM
Thanks for your kind words. Cheers and Best Wishes

Book: Shattered Sighs