Age Is But A Page Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Ye frowned at that fraudster called age,
The devil that lets us not sleep light,
In book of life age is bare a page.

A child lets life no fair passage,
Reads not by page, flies a fancy flight,
Ye frowned, kept the fraudster in cage.

He when grows and knows, hedges on hedge,
Wise enough, calls not that boaster's blight,
Life's a long book, age a passing page.

Happy, pushing hackney carriage,
Reaping fruits in life's fight-less flight,
He pretends to face that impostor's rage.

In second childhood, bit of a sage,
In vain sets out life's wrongs to right,
He readies to write life's last page.

But you dad, lived life in heaven's image
Fought your best to give age good fight,
Ye frowned on that fraudster's rage,
And proved life's a book, age but a page.
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Inspired by my father who led an exemplary life and died at the age of 102
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Villanelle | 01.10.08 |