And So, Retire Poem by Jack Turner

The twilight comes slowly,
Almost unnoticeable
and weary limbs sink thankful to the chair.
Another day over, and in for the night.
The fire flickers like a memory
of summers past
and passions turned to ashes.
The mirror lies, perhaps - but only to the young
and no frosted glass or gloss can hide
the hair that fades with her desire
or the blush
that fades from in his heart.
The evening lulls into familiar deja vu
and he etches a map of routine
across his face and she feeds the fire like a child
or a past that could be born again
rising from the grey with golden plumage,
sweetly serenading;
a courtship, condemned to life.

And so, retire;
to bed, one fuller than before, and softer
where the sorceress revives her potions
and the hero slays the boar and sets the tools for morning,
dancing to the tune stuck in their head
and the dying embers fade into the night
and spread their comfort blanket on the hearth,
eiderdown and silk, perfect as the day they came.
And hearts beat steady, safe and sound within the knowledge
that nothing fresh could come between,
no new notes could now upset the ballad
straining through her heart
She sings, as darkness falls upon the day, no matter,
life goes on
Come romance, sunshine, rain or sun,
Oh, how
life goes on

And on

And on

And on.