The Aging Giant Poem by Edmund V. Strolis
The Aging Giant
The aging poet stooped and bent
Made his way along his path
No more high sea adventures
Those reckless days, had long since passed
With cane, black hat and white whiskers
He found no need to hurry
In fact he hardly moved at all
This giant of a man now seemed so small
Did the whiskers on his chin
Mark the beginning of the end?
Not so much a beard perhaps
More like a flag of surrender.
Had time and worry weathered him?
Worn him down, defeated him
Had he no more pennies for the well
Was he spent, with no more stories to tell?
Was it now his late November evening
A gold leaf turned to dingy brown
His shapeless life without color
Barely present above the ground
But no, his chin began to lift
His spirit you see ran far too deep
That mystic, magic beautiful glow
Would burn long into his final sleep.
Oh how wonderful. The spirit of the poet runs so very deep within this frail man. Hopefully you will still be writing at a grand old age. Your words dance on the page and are such a pleasure to read. Thank you for sharing
Thank you Sarah. Strange to think that I have been writing poems for PH for around a year and a half now. Closing in on 200 poems with the feeling that something wonderful and profound is just around the corner. Now and then I write a poem that takes too much analyzing but for the most part I do try and say what I have to say in a straightforward way.Anyway, happy Easter and I hope your spring is bright and sunny too!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 7:34:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
gosh! ! The stories of a lifetime and diminishment which comes with age. We fell a sadness in the middle 3 verses wondering if this poet had taken the well worn oath but no this poet had found the greatest treasure the peace and inner joy that shines from within his spirit -that mystic magic beautiful glow would burn long into his sleep. What a great reminder Edmund to find our treasure within and follow the less trodden path into the depths of life. Skillfully written and a wonderful poem -on my favs.
The path that you refer to as being common is a worn out but safe way to go through life. What I like in a person is an enthusiasm for what they do unless that thing is the same boring thing. Car, motorcycle and technology enthusiasts for example bore me to tears but if one is enthusiastic about locomotives or even growing potatoes I am caught up in their elation. I don't begrudge anyone for a passion but I could spend hours listening to anything provided it has some unique aspect to it. The universe is limitless! !