When you are old, your head is white, and you are drowsy and
Dozing by the fire, please take this poem and
Read it slowly, recalling the softness of your past eyes
recall the heavy shadows of their former days.
How many loved thy youthful and cheerful hours, and
How many loved your beauty, false or true.
Only one loved your pilgrim soul.
loves the painful wrinkles of your aged face.
And dropping his head, by the red glowing stove
And mournfully whispers the fading of that love.
On the hill overhead it paces slowly.
Hiding its face among a crowd of stars.
About the Creator
Richard Shurwood
If you wish to succeed, you should use persistence as your good friend, experience as your reference, prudence as your brother and hope as your sentry.
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I love you but give up on you
I met the cat diving, but not you. I met a dog climbing a rock, but not you. I met snow in the summer, but not you. I met a typhoon in winter, but I didn't meet you. I met pigs learning to make nets, but I didn't meet you. I met all the extraordinary but never met the ordinary you.
By Richard Shurwood3 years ago in Poets
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