The wisdom brought with years,
a wrinkle here and there
but slight, not easily seen from afar,
the light in his eyes
still shines brightly
from the days of his youth.
As a child he had dreams
about an old man,
a foot race
in which he forever lost
to the man whose face
he now owns.
His years aplenty,
his knowledge great,
his legs no longer as swift,
he recalls the dreams of old
that still come to visit
occasionally leaving him tired
and out of breath.
Yes, the sagacity his,
judgement clear and astute,
not one in the village
could stand up to him
in his wit,
this well-respected sage
who at one time
lost races won by an aged man
in bygone dreams.
Honorable mention
Adding your comment:
Good luck.
Hugs, Patricia 
