Reminiscence
What others saw in you was age
And wrinkles drawn by time and worry,
Yet I remember well the stage
When your quaint beauty knew no hurry.
You were then young and I a child,
Who ran into your arms and laughed,
And fancied life to be so mild
I’d never write your epitaph.
But now your life has run its course
And I must live and stay behind.
O, how could I amass the force
In such a world some rest to find?
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
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