I wish that you were old and weathered
that wrinkles irrigated your face
that your hair was a halo of white
that your bones ached
and that you complained
with coughs and curses
about your great old age
rather than
Death held you
young & forever
locked in the center
of his ageless eye.
Nice old treasures brought by the rising tide by the ocean of your poems. This one is so passionate... I like it very much. You make something old to look more precious. You are a poet in heart, Donall, no doubts!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
And so, I collect antiques...not the flashy new but the treasured old, lovingly cared for for a lifetime...and so I wish Junie could be for you...lovingly cared for for a lifetime, not always remembered as fresh and new. Scarlett