He stands not as tall as he did once
before,
She is not nearly as blond.
His eyes aren’t as sharp and he moves
kind of slow,
She holds his hand when they walk.
She’s content just to sit and listen and
watch
The grandkids playing their games.
His mind is now focused on family and
friends,
He reads the obits every day.
He’s grateful for each act of kindness,
That someone cares for his needs.
She’s happy when someone stops by to
talk
And listens to words that she speaks.
They sit close together, just holding
hands,
Happy to be side by side.
There’s really not much need of talking,
They know how their hearts intertwine.
They don’t feel a need to worry or fret
What some folks might see or perceive.
They both know it really won’t matter,
They’ve grown into what they will be.
So contented they struggle together,
In a graceful and dignified way,
Willing to bow to the trials and tests,
Pressing them each passing day.
The strength of their youth, long passed
away,
Their bodies are weakened with age,
But, what they have lost through the
annals of time
Is replaced by beauty and grace.
Copyright 2000 by Layne S
Porter
Side Note by Layne: I write this poem in hope that I will find such grace when youth passes from me.
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