Wrinkles Of An Old Woman Poem by Akhtar Jawad

Time you snatched all I had,
But you couldn't snatch the reasons
To smile and to be glad,
I have daughters and sons.
Look at me, at all not sad,
My granddaughters, my grandsons!


Time you gave wrinkles to my face,
Every wrinkle is a recorded glory,
I can see in a mirror my added grace,
Life has always been a love story.
One still kisses me, increases the glace,
An antivirus program that cleans memory!

My two innocent eyes are two remote controls,
I turn on the video of my oldest wrinkle,
Here I am a cute soul between two souls,
It's he, it's she, on my cheeks both sprinkle,
A moon, stars of kisses twinkle and twinkle!

My two naughty eyes open another record,
Roaming in a garden of shocking pink flowers,
Suddenly it starts raining and we in a lonely yard,
Kisses of clouds for the earth, here too showers,
No customs, no taboos, all in love we discard,
Teen age of adventure and the lovely bowers!

My affectionate eyes open an old tune composed,
I am singing once again a forgotten folk song
Cooking dishes for children in wet shirt exposed,
I found myself locked in two arms too strong.
"Love, all-time medicine, at the moment overdosed,
Defer it till night, I listen to the sound of your gong."

Through glasses on my eyes one more play,
I am playing Ludo with my grandchildren,
Typing a poem on computer, my poor old clay,
Life of old women and that of old men,
It gives something to smile in every new day.
For chickens and grand chickens I'm still a hen!