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When I Am Old

I’m not going to be that old lady
With nothing but gossip to while away hours
Planted in front of the TV soaps
Who plays bingo or drinks sherry
Wearing strings of pearls
With rouged cheekbones and painted nails

Instead my days will draw to a close
Like a vibrant painting
Where splashes of life
And streaks of colour
Will splatter in abstract abandon
As the ink dares to cross the lines

The twilight years where being me
Casts away the cloak of expectation
And dances in the meadow of inspiration
Shouting poetic expression across the plains
And where fresh air rouges my face
Whilst bubbling springs wash over my bare feet

And I will run through forests of books
The inscriptions of the wise
In a quest for eternal knowledge
Jumping into the deepest oceans
To swim against the tide
To bathe in enlightened waters

For the spirit of ageing
Will bloom like the autumn cherry
Fighting the tides of winter
In one final exclamation
Of everything that is life
And of everything that makes life great!

Cycle of Life

I sit and think life’s like a stream
All bubbling and clear
In early days when youth burns bright
Before the middle years
When brook turns into river broad
With depth and span from all
Experiences that we have had
Before we reach the fall
Of life; autumnal years spread out
Where estuary feeds into
The oceans sea that stretches out
Towards eternal view
Whence spirit will evaporate
Up to the skies above
And drops of memories will reign
In you and me with love

P