Back when time wasn’t a worry, I had plenty ahead;
lovely songs to be sung, and great books to be read…
when I was young.
The years sped by, I took them in stride;
the count didn’t matter, I simply basked in the ride…
when I was young.
Life rushed on, my days filled with commonplace hours;
nights brought new adventures and thrilling powers…
when I was young.
The years piled up, but always in denial, I blithely waved them away;
though lurking in the shadows, quietly awaiting, stood my fateful day…
even then, I thought I was still young.
The shattering doom came on a rush with the wind;
its breath of havoc gathered in a spin.
Who could that person staring back at me be?
The Me I had known I now couldn’t see.
To my fearful dread, the mirror delivered a woeful truth:
time had boldly walked away with my youth.
One might presume I’ve been caught in life’s inevitable snare,
pinioned by bands of formidable steel.
Yet, I have an ace in the hole—a mind if you will;
active and questing, impervious to intrusion;
tethered to its grand illusion, chanting aloud,
lost in song, here’s cheers for attitude...I am still young.
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
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When I was Young
Back when time wasn’t a worry, I had plenty ahead;
lovely songs to be sung, and great books to be read…
when I was young.
The years sped by, I took them in stride;
the count didn’t matter, I simply basked in the ride…
when I was young.
Life rushed on, my days filled with commonplace hours;
nights brought new adventures and thrilling powers…
when I was young.
The years piled up, but always in denial, I blithely waved them away;
though lurking in the shadows, quietly awaiting, stood my fateful day…
even then, I thought I was still young.
The shattering doom came on a rush with the wind;
its breath of havoc gathered in a spin.
Who could that person staring back at me be?
The Me I had known I now couldn’t see.
To my fearful dread, the mirror delivered a woeful truth:
time had boldly walked away with my youth.
One might presume I’ve been caught in life’s inevitable snare,
pinioned by bands of formidable steel.
Yet, I have an ace in the hole—a mind if you will;
active and questing, impervious to intrusion;
tethered to its grand illusion, chanting aloud,
lost in song, here’s cheers for attitude...I am still young.
Copyright 2003 by Elizabeth Towles