Saturday, August 29, 2009

When I am Old

When I am old and drenched in world's of sadness,
And wear a lacy cap upon my head:
When looking past the future's singing gladness,
I linger, wistful, in the year's long dead.
When I am old, and youngfolk all about me,
speak softly about religion when they speak
When parties are a grand success without me;
and when my laugh is fluttering and weak--

Will I then be content to raise my glances,
Serenely to the cloud-entangled sky?
And will I be content to watch at dances,
Without a heartbreak, as the hours pass by?
Or when I see young lovers' fingers twine,
Will I remember, dear, your lips on mine?
Margaret Elizabeth Sangster (1838-1912)

When did it happen? I know not, for I was so busy trying remain in the warmth of summer that I never took notice that I had passed into the autumn of my life. One day I was in the prime of my youth, and the next day I became a crone. Where has time gone? Why does it have to pass by so fast? I haven't accomplished all that I had hoped and dreamed for when I was young, but I am content with my life, of the all the battles I have faced and won. Life truly is good so why do I feel as if something is missing?

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