Wise old man, all wizened and white,
Walks in watching through dimmed sight.
A staff in hand and golden bell,
For when time’s ripe to resound the knell.
His eyes hold flashes of times gone by,
Good ones, mad ones, laughs and sighs
A mirror are they, to foresee,
What times to come, could (should) be.
A toothless smile on his dear face,
Shall begin to fade as moments race.
Couldn’t hold him back, if you tried,
So everyone danced when he finally died.
©Sai
Pic: By Kelly Sikkema (From Unsplash)
Superb poem maam.
Apt metaphor for December.Beautiful poem
Beautifully penned poem
Oh Sai! This poem reminded me of all the bonfires and the burning of the Old Man (Old Year). You always pen stuff so beautifully. Sigh
I’m reading it slowly to sip on it. I admire your craftsmanship,Sai.
Wow! That was amazing. How well written with an unimaginable ending.
Beautiful💚💚💚
Simply lovely!
Enter your account data and we will send you a link to reset your password.
Here you'll find all collections you've created before.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.