Old Age Poem by james watkin
Old Age
A candle, dwindling down, within
A dilaperdated house.
What burns yet for a life-spark.
Aged body, does yet rouse.
Shaking it to the foundations
Dancing with joints that creak!
Death, dont put up your 'condemned' sign
Til what, for love, does show
As through each cataract-window
Though blurred, for hopes, not bleak.
Wednesday, August 31, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: age
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5/10/2024 5:31:31 AM # 1.0.0.1119
