It was years ago when I first met her.
She was the siren of Laguna Beach,
Well endowed, a body to be envied
By all women and, licentiously desired by all men.
She walked like a cat; mysterious, behind her large, darkly
Tinted glasses, causing people to turn and watch
As she silently passed them by.
She was not pretentious, she was herself,
As she was born to be. She was not young
But, at that time of life when all was an intoxicating
Awareness of love and beauty, wrapped in a fervor
For life, living it to its maximum.
I saw her again, many years later.
Confined to a home-care facility,
Mobile to the limits of a wheelchair.
The shadows of time deepened,
As the flickering dance of advancing days
Hovered about her face.
I remember her, once glorious in her youthful beauty,
A blaze of eloquent passion.
Now, she seems a dying ember,
In the gray, slow-fire ash of old age.
I think well of her, as I had thought well
Of her, with all kindness and tenderness,
Just as a man remembers, through the scroll
Of decades past, those places and people
He enjoyed and loved the most.
By: Lynn W. Petty
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An interesting write that kept me intrigued from start to finish and left me deep in thought about similar observances. It seems that although one can be born with every gift or advantage in life it cannot guarantee the best outcomes. 10