When I was young and fair, with hair of purest gold,
I little knew how soon I would grow gray and old.
I little dreamt that life would swiftly pass me by,
And leave me all alone, left little but to die.
How soon the songs are sung, how soon the music dies
How soon the skin grows creased, and lustre leaves the eyes.
And all the dreams of love, the promise of the past
Become as nightmare shades which hold the dreamer fast.
The mirror mocks me now. Within that crystal glass
I see a shrinking skull which watches as I pass
I cannot run and hide, I faint from lack of breath
For what I see inside must be the face of death.
Outside, the children play, I hear them laugh in glee
I wish for youth again, but dust is all I see
A dust which falls around as darkness slowly grows,
And covers up the ground, the lily and the rose.
A contest entry
- When I was Young and Fair (or Handsome) #152 Winklings by Lyndon.
1750 points, ended January 23, 5 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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A poem on mortality.
Your couplets rhyme in a standard fashion within the quatrains. You employed strict iambic hexameter lines. Is "hair of purest gold" an Elizabethan conceit or a modern piece of imagery? Think about that, poet. "left little but to die" is an obvious outcome of your logic before the words are stated. "crystal glass" for a mirror? How often do C21 people use or write the word "glee" outside of Allpoetry?
Your work is well honed and pleasant to read. Thank you for partaking in this contest, author.
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Excellent, my friend, but at my age, a little too realistic for comfort, lol! Seriously, though, a very well-fashioned and worded poem.
Bill
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