She was born
with a coronet
of wispy gold twine.
At seven
Sunlight and weather tempered
and forged for her
a tiara of fine copper wire
which she wore until middle age.
At forty
she was bequeathed with
a diadem of diamonds
and topazes.
At sixty
time has refined the contours of her face
and filaments of silver
have modeled a halo for her head.
Sonny, this is such a beautiful piece, and a very original view of growing better with age. I love the metaphor of her 'crown' evolving into a halo. Nice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have such a graceful and beautyful style in this, an absolute 10 from me, Love Duncan