WRINKLED OLD LADY
Wrinkled, wrinkled, old lady!
How pretty you used to be.
Not long, men called you a baby
But now a faded blue bell to me.
Wrinkled, wrinkled old lady!
A beauty queen once you were,
When your elegant gait was steady,
Now waddles in the wrapper you wear.
Wrinkled, wrinkled old lady!
Your youthful dance suffers your waist;
Death wooes you, make yourself ready.
Life is gone as a heap of waste.
©22nd Feb.2016.
Death wooes you, make yourself ready. Life is gone as a heap of waste..... the inevitable change in one's own self...... the beauty turns into wrinkles..... what is life..... what is a life after. is it sadness of joy when we think of it........ do not be pessimistic....... be positive always. thank you dear poet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
...How pretty you used to be. Not long, men called you a baby But now a faded blue bell to me...The writer expresses the reality of aging and its mean effects and of course the fact that each day draws on closer to one's grave...Death wooes you, make yourself ready... it's a fine piece