Poetry, Prose and Parable.

Beauty

I guess it is because I am getting older, not only am I getting older but all the people around me are doing the same. I have often thought there is no need to fear advancing years as everyone is getting older at exactly the same rate, one day at a time, although certainly some folks seem to have an easier time of managing longevity. As the baby of my family, I have siblings in their 70s and 80s, I look at them and wonder how I will be faring 15 or more years down the track.

I was chatting with my eldest earlier today and in the course of the conversation, I said, I promise to be a good old girl. I won’t make life difficult for my children when I am old.

Her response was. Mum you have always been good, so if you do get a bit difficult when you are old, I am sure we will all forgive you.

Still, my promise is to myself just as much as to them. I know life can be very difficult at times, especially as one navigates old age but more than anything my desire is to age beautifully, gracefully and graciously.

This is my poem on Beauty, written a while back now, I hope you will enjoy reading it.

Beauty a poem by Estelle D.

Beauty sat alone and cried,
 For something inside had died, 
Youth was spent and beauty faded, 
 Life had left the spirit jaded.

Gone was Beauty's youthful glow,
Movement and reflex becoming slow,
Flesh once smooth and plump, in wrinkles fall,
Stooping now, once was gracefully tall.

Beauty, the television told,
Had nothing to do with getting old,
Beauty lived in the bottle that was sold,
What was inside didn't matter, 
The bottle held the power to flatter.

So creams, potions and perfumes were bought,
Beauty was so actively sought,
But still, Beauty was illusive,
That the bottles had failed,
The evidence was conclusive.

Then Wisdom came and took a seat,
In the heart's garden, Beauty to meet,
Wisdom spoke with grace and charm,
Told Beauty there was no need for alarm.

While Youth and Beauty, they must flee,
They flee to make room for me,
And I bring a Beauty unto you,
That continually is made anew.

Beauty of the bottle is only skin deep,
I bring a Beauty you can keep,
While flesh must age and fade away,
I will be Beauty until your dying day.

I bring you Peace and Love and Grace,
I mark my Beauty on your face,
My Beauty has no barriers to colour, creed or race,
But if my Beauty you would embrace, 
Of Bitterness, Hatred or Malice there must be no trace.

Copyright.Estelle D.1996©