One day I will meet an old lady,
The lady I meet will be me!
When her eyes meet mine and I see her,
I wonder what sort she will be?
Will her eyes hold a twinkle of cheer,
With wrinkles turned up in a smile?
Or will I see eyes dark with sadness,
And wrinkles downcast all the while?
Will I sense a heart of acceptance,
Content with the loss age has brought?
Or will I sense doubt and depression,
Discouraged by all that is not?
Will I see some act to encourage,
A kind word of helpful good cheer?
Or will I see self-centered boredom,
With no thought for friends far or near?
Will toils of long life prove to soften,
To season with wisdom and grace?
Or will I find cynical hardness,
A sour and bitter, sad place?
I wonder if children will love her,
Will they love to knock on her door?
Or will their loud noise be a bother,
A thing she can't take anymore?
Will she still be friends with her husband,
A love strong through all of the years?
Or will time with him be a bother,
Annoyance that drives her to tears?
One day I will meet an old lady,
The lady I meet will be me!
When her eyes meet mine and I see her,
Will I like the things that I see?
I wonder, what makes a sweet lady,
A lady who's years make her old?
I wonder how life and it's lessons,
Turn out a sweet heart pure as gold?
I wonder what tips she would give me,
What words of advice she would say?
Somehow I expect she would tell me,
"You'd better be starting today!"
"Those traits that you hope to be finding,
You'd better be practicing now!
They will not appear just like magic,
They do not just happen somehow."
Someday I will meet an old lady,
The lady I meet will be me!
I'd better consider my actions,
If right now is really the key.
Good one!:)
ReplyDeleteI printed the poem and posted it in my kitchen.
ReplyDeleteAww. I am honored, Cheryl!
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