On Lifes Own Terms Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The quiet house, a gentle space,
Just me and time, at my own pace.
No voices raised, no need to plead,
To plant a thought, or sow a seed.

An empty nest, the quiet reigns,
No tiny footprints, no desturbing pains.
Just my own rhythm, slow and deep,
While the whole wide world is fast asleep.

No need to answer, no need to explain,
A peaceful haven, free from strain.
I read my book, or watch the breeze,
In cozy comfort, doing as
I please.

The dishes wait, or not at all,
No little feet to scream or fall.
No one to judge what book I read,
Or writing poems in my bed.

The garden blooms, or doesn't care,
No sharing toys, no need to share.
A peaceful life, a simple scene,
A solitary, silver queen.

Life's melody, it ebbs and flows,
With solitude, or when one knows
The warmth of hands, a loving gaze.
Or this calm life, these quiet days.

They're mine alone, a gift to hold,
A story whispered, while growing old.
On life's own terms, I understand,
Alone, at peace, in my own land.