-- Old Promises --

John Herlihy

Broken promises will never grow old;

They die a death before they are told.

Lonely moments that wither and sigh,

Brief moments that only age and die.

Found in a land we will never enter,

The sun shining, but it feels like winter.

Old, enduring promises are never broken,

They age gracefully their truth to betoken.

Their being spoken offers a treasured trust,

Their perfume exudes the richness of musk.

The promise fills the hours of our every day,

The promise so spoken never fritters away.

Broken promises are sadly never fully told;

Old promises never die, but only grow old.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Tuesday 10 August 2021