Thistle Down

By Ethel

Age

Age stood high above me,
He swept me in his arms.
There in violent protest,
He took away my charms.

His kiss was very cold,
Just like the lay of stone.
I waited to endure it,
Then from me there came a moan.

My knees were drawn together,
And it made my efforts hard.
Equal strength I must encounter,
And my aging joints to guard.

Wrinkles strewn around me plenty,
And my smile was very drawn.
With my instant spurt of action,
Often passed away and gone.

Age stood by so very lifeless,
And his face was very grim.
My step came on in perfect rhythm,
As I walked along with him.


E.P. 1908 - 1989

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