The Joy of Growing Older

Grace grows where time gently weaves its story.

The angles of life, once sharp and bright,

Now soften with time, bathed in gentle light.

Each passing year a treasure to hold,

A story colored in hues of gold.

The mirror reflects a wiser face,

A canvas of love, of laughter, and grace.

Older we grow, yet younger at heart,

A masterpiece where all seasons play a part.

Through life’s shifting shades, we stand tall,

Embracing the beauty of it all.

Aging with joy, like a timeless song,

Knowing each step has made us strong.

⚖️⚖️⚖️

Poetry Prompt:  Shay's Word Garden (Poetry and Such Like)

A pocketful of sunshine and 

Whisper of the Leaf

 

Taken from "[what if a much of a which of a wind]" by E. E. Cummings

Silent and still on the darkened path,

A lone leaf rests from its journey past.

Once it soared in heights above,

Now it lies below, in quiet love.

Veins etched deep, stories told,

A life once vivid, now grown bold.

It holds a grace, both soft and slight,

A fleeting mark in fading light.

The trees behind, a distant blur,

Stand tall and strong, yet do not stir.

And here it sleeps, its tale complete,

A gentle end, serene and sweet.

Poetry Prompt:

Reflection by Melissa Lemay at dVerse Poets Pub

A pocketful of sunshine and