May Youth Not Go A-Glimmering
A rising young starlet, the toast of the chase
Hollywood abuzz over each toss of her lace...
Now her fingers and lips visibly quiver
As she sits in hospice and ceaselessly shivers
The surgeon to the stars, from opera to ballet
He resurrected voices, pirouettes and even pli'es...
His grip now unsteady, his voice a bare whisper
Proud knife now exchanged for untrimmed whiskers
Skates flashing silver, over ice did she flow
A portrait of grace from her head to her toe...
Now she wobbles when walking, fearful of falling
Her elegance vanished, the sight of her galling
May youth not go a-glimmering, may it not die young
Preserve it with the power of the pen's mighty tongue
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2018
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