Clayart.ca
I awoke this morning to a real surprise.
For when I looked in the mirror I was in disguise.
The face looking back was not the one of my youth.
It was the one of maturity, which I dressed with lies.
Only now the mask hid not that truth.
An old man was my reflection, my eyes red with sty.
Gone, the strength from the body that carried me through time.
My torso now bent and stooped, with a crooked spine.
My youth is gone to where I know not
The corpus left abandoned, my hands in a knot
It was time gone by I danced and sang and played the part
Now my pills of yesterday wait where I forgot
The blue for my blood, the red is for my heart.
And the purple one, I am sure, won’t do a lot.
The youth that I knew would live without and be just fine.
But I must now take them all to ensure a day benign.
Perhaps I will return to my room and go back to bed.
Where, on the soft pillow, I will lay my head.
I will dream of the days of wild and playful times.
To awaken in an hour or so and to the mirror I will tread.
Check my face to see if age has carved more lines.
I am sure I will find a face of youth, in my stead.
But alas I will be too tired to crawl out from my warm nest.
So I will stay a while longer and await eternal rest
Terrance is
a retired Canadian Armed Forces Logistic Officer who traded his military
uniform for a potter's wheel, when he retired in 1991.
Terry is presently working out of his studio, located in Longueuil, (St-Hubert,) Quebec, Canada. You can find out more about him here.
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