Shroud of Lace
To watch them pass on by
So pensive, grave, with winter in the lace
That shrouds each year that time cannot deny
A springtime switched to autumn graces
Has furrowed in their seasoned faces
And covers gray of silken hair
While all the world strolls by in haste
With a sense of reverence in the air
She lifts her languid eye
A wrinkled brow portrayed
Where lines of time and experience lie
Where every movement displays
The falling leaves of yesterday
Before the tears of sweet despair
Were spread upon the April day
With a sense of reverence in the air
Composed they stroll, arm in arm, thigh to thigh
Some say their worth has spent its day
She holds her self in calm reply
His world once used him by swift pace
Wisdom disregards the youthful chase
They walk to buy some flowers fair
Their youth is put to rest today
With a sense of reverence in the air
No tear should trickle from your eyes
No need to mourn for yesteryear
For sagely knowing what never dies
With sense of reverence in the air
______________________________________________________________
Inspired by Catie's contest Ballade Boomba
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