-- Youth a Cruel Gift --
By John Herlihy
Youth is but a cruel gift,
Like unexpected snow in April.
Breathtaking, hearts to uplift,
Sun’s warmth will its beauty steal.
Just one season for youth to defend,
Enjoy its innocence before it expires.
As youthful as youth can pretend,
Fresh beginnings everyone admires.
You know only the present,
In the future, youth already past.
For centuries, this moment present,
A flame on a wick, burning fast.
Youth is a world of its own,
It enjoys a godly license.
We think it forever to own,
As we have possessed it once.
I am not young any more,
No longer handsome, youthful.
No longer innocence in my store,
In old age wisdom plentiful.
Old age a kindly gift,
Like Indian summer’s reprieve.
Our aging hearts to uplift,
No further need to deceive.
Knowledge now wisdom deserved,
With the white beard of a sage.
The bloom of youth preserved,
Dried flower in the book of old age.
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Copyright ©John Herlihy
Friday 16 June 2023
Ron