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If it were not
For Coffee,
I don't think
I could face mornings,
When my hair
Stays
Where it went
The night before,
And the wrinkles,
Embedded during sleep,
Are still with me
An hour after I arise!
Inside my head,
I am still a little cutie,
Flower child of the 60's,
Young, full of the juice of life.
But, Heaven help me!
The mirror is my conscience,
My truth-teller,
My honesty! !
I'm just a little old
Silver-haired lady,
Stooped with age, but, hopefully,
Wise beyond my years!
A friend asked me
Why she is suddenly 73...
Well, it is really 70,
But it needed to rhyme, you see...
And I feel the same way,
Wondering where the days
And years have flown
Since I was young.
With thanks to fellow poetess, RE, who inspired this poem, and a happy birthday to her grandson, Wyatt, and my granddaughter, Ava Rose, born on the same day, March 8,2006!
Scarlett Treat
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