Saturday, October 29, 2011

Turning 50



I look in the mirror and see
A face that surely can’t be me
The hint of wrinkles and spots
A far cry from freckles and blotches
Hair no longer blonde, purple, or pink
The gray coming in quicker than a blink
It leads me to think
What I see can’t really be me
Inside still many hints of the lonely little girl
So afraid of the world
Dreams yet to be
Plans unfolding
As the potter continues to shape
It can’t really be me
Hugs to give
Kisses to share
Sunsets worthy of time and care
Paths to travel
Words to speak
Yet the image in the mirror
Moves in time
A little more slowly
Perhaps with more care
But certainly not too old for a dare
To climb out of the box
And dance with the little girl
Who is able to trust a little more
While the days fly
No time for worries about what passes by




2 comments:

  1. I love this. Happy happy birthday to a very special person xx

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