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Robert L Sep 2020
I’m older if not wiser
Can’t *** like a geyser
And I think I can hear the bells toll.

They’re a little less distant
And a bit more insistent
And no longer seem quite as droll.

Out the corner of my eye
I think to espy
A dark figure with malevolent intent.

A voice with a tone
Like the scraping of bone
that leaves me whining and spent.

Is it getting closer?
Is it there in the toaster?
I worry perhaps more than I should.

But I’d be lying
There is no denying
I wish now that I’d done more good.
دema flutter Mar 2020
thank you for
looking at me
with such kindness
in your eyes,
love in your veins
and warmth in
the wrinkles
surrounding
your eyelashes.
Madison Greene Mar 2020
Imagine you and I, rocking chairs on a front porch after time has left it’s mark on us.
The wrinkles on your forehead tell the sweetest stories.
I hope we’ve kicked all the things that had their grip on us.
Imagine you and I, bathing beneath golden rays with our backs against the earth.
The concept of time has no hold on us.
I’ll love you long after this body fails me
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
See
See
by Michael R. Burch

See how her hair has thinned: it doesn’t seem
like hair at all, but like the airy moult
of emus who outraced the wind and left
soft plumage in their wake. See how her eyes
are gentler now; see how each wrinkle laughs,
and deepens on itself, as though mirth took
some comfort there, then burrowed deeply in,
outlasting winter. See how very thin
her features are—that time has made more spare,
so that each bone shows, elegant and rare.
For life remains undimmed in her grave eyes,
and courage in her still-delighted looks:
each face presented like a picture book’s.
Bemused, she blows us undismayed goodbyes.

Keywords/Tags: Elderly, woman, grandmother, thin, thinning, hair, airy, emu, moult, soft, plumage, wrinkles, laugh lines, frail, gaunt, bones, winter, grave, eyes, courage, laughter, family, gathered, bedside, kisses, hugs, goodbyes, farewells, life, death, photo album, pictures, photos, photographs

Published by The Eclectic Muse, Love Me Knots (an anthology of the top 100 contemporary love poems), Nutty Stories (South Africa), Black Medina, The New Formalist, Better Than Starbucks, Potcake Chapbooks, Strange Roads, Sonnetto Poesia, Litera (UK), Poems About, Poetry Life & Times, MahMag (in a Farsi translation by Dr. Mahnaz Badihian), Somewhere Along The Beaten Path (Anthology), Freshet, Life & Legends, Famous Poets & Poems, Short Quotes & Poems (listed in the top 10 short poems) and Victorian Violet Press. “See” won 3rd place in the 2003 Writer’s Digest Rhyming Poetry contest, out of over 18,000 overall entries, and was published in Writer’s Digest’s The Year’s Best Writing.
Danica Sep 2019
It was when the rain start
as my heart skip a beat
I heard yours in triump
Thumping and pumping so fast

You smile mischievously
And sing for me endlessly
Oh!  How hate and love collide
Just like heat after the summer kiss
And the cold breeze of snow flakes bliss
It was all clear to me oh!  How I miss you  badly

Years after years
Decades strike straight through me
Wrinkles and lines visible on my face
As the smell of your perfume filled my nostrils

And now it's my time
To go back to our old days my love
The film of life is done with me
And I'm ready to go free
George Krokos Aug 2019
From a very early age we start to form some wrinkles in our mind
with all of those impressions we gather in life of an unusual kind.
It's those things we think, believe, say and do as we live and grow
that form the basis of our problems of which maturity does show.

Especially all of those wrong thoughts, beliefs, words and actions
indulged in that cause or bring about much of our dis-satisfactions.
Very often we don't really know or understand what's for own good
and hold onto those things that we need to let go of which we could.

We all become attached to certain things that so form our behaviour
which can cause all those problems we seek help for from a saviour.
Whether it's to do with some physical, emotional or mental distress
we often wonder how we find ourselves to be in such a current mess.

Too much of a good thing that seems to be alright for a period of time
may only start the ball rolling towards an unlikely or unhealthy clime.
And as we tend to give in to so many temptations each and every day
our mind develops wrinkles that over time come to plague us and stay.

We're all usually born with what is known as a clean slate of a mind
that's gradually filled up by things as we live, grow and learn we find;
particularly with regard to the circumstances that come with our birth
and family situations through our parents on this planet called Earth.

There are also things that come to us unexpectedly as we all live
which may cause various problems and even some setbacks give.
But it's really how we handle and cope with what life throws at us
and take advantage of any opportunities that will result in our plus.

The wrinkles in the mind which may form during the course of life
have the hidden or likely potential to cause someone a lot of strife.
Especially when they're formed in the mind of one at an early age
and aren't smoothed out by the one concerned at some later stage.

They resemble the grooves on a vinyl recording that are played with
a record player's needle passing over them producing the sound pith
of recorded music or song that have been damaged by some means
playing the same part over repeatedly and its progress contravenes.
______
Written in July 2018. Please see also another recently posted poem titled: "The Wound That Took Ages To Heal" which is also posted on HP.
Maria Etre Apr 2019
I followed the lines
on my palm
and they never
seem
to make up
their mind
as time
passes
by
Kavya Mukhija Apr 2019
My grandma is an old woman
With shiny silver hair
Like the queen's hat
I go to visit her on Sundays
Her face lights up like
Night sky from the old moon
She smiles the most gorgeous smile
Her teeth make a little window
To her heart
Love finding its way back
My grandma prepares
All the dishes that make my mouth water
She begins at Saturday morning
And finishes by evening
Slowly, bit by bit
My grandma is aged but
her love is like wine;
The older, the more intense
She feeds me with her fragile, shaky hands
The paneer tastes creamy
The jalebis are like her skin,
Brown and sleak
It has been 6 weeks
Since I have been meeting her
Every Sunday
Today when I checked my weight
The machine pointed at
Sixty four point five
From fifty eight point seven
It is her love that has found home
Within me.
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