Life is a series of phases
That we must undergo,
When young, time races
When old, you won't let go
Of memories, of places,
Of loved ones,
That you loved so
Remembering,
Melancholically,
So very long ago.
Sandracita, I am amazed you can turn out one timelessly beautiful poem after another- endlessly! You truly are an astoundingly fascinating woman. How I wish I could have met you! My next glass of wine will be raised as a toast in your honor. Brava! Brava! Brava!
You pegged it! ! ! When I was young, I couldn't wait for my Grandfather to start telling his tales of his youth! ! ! ! Unfortunately, in this age of television and movies and games, kids don't want to sit there hypnotized by stories of the old days... they miss out on such riches. On the other hand, the old need to keep welcoming new experiences. Love love love this poem, my dear Sandra! 10+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a perfect little gem this poem is, a diamond cut and polished by a master (mistress?) craftswoman, and it sounds so simply and effortlessly accomplished.