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Passions in Poetry

Lamenting For Her Youth

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Mona Lisa
Member
since 08-25-99
Posts 100
Halifax, Nova Scotia


0 posted 10-08-1999 08:59 PM       View Profile for Mona Lisa   Email Mona Lisa   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for Mona Lisa

The window of the past, she opened up one day.
The curtains she drew back, her memories to display.
She wished to reminisce, of times that were far spent.
To think of yesteryear, and relieve past events.

A little girl she saw, with future budding bright,
with baby doll in hand, and scattered toys in sight.
Her hair in pony tail, and clad in frilly dress.
In her world all was well, and nothing could oppress.

Those were her wonder years, her time to learn and grow.
And with inquiring mind, much knowledge she did stow.
So joyous was her life, contentment was sublime.
Forever young she'd be, and always in her prime.

Young woman she became, and beauty was her friend.
The day was hers to seize, on time she could depend.
In youthood she did bask, so restless, young and free.
Long length of life was hers, she made it her decree.

But then to her dismay, a wrinkle she did find.
Old age was creeping in, her doom had been assigned.
Her hair was turning gray, her bones becoming weak,
Of all the things she tried, her future still looked bleak.

Indeed her fate was sealed, had crept up unawares.
Her youth had bid goodbye, comfirming her worst fears.
Her time had come and past, the door had now been closed.
The end was drawing near, the law of life imposed.

She'd forced herself to tears, and thought herself to gloom,
as all alone she sat, in a dark and lonely room.
She wished that she could walk and wished that she could run.
And longed she could enjoy, the rays of summer sun.

A single tear fell down, her worn and wrinkled face.
She reached for a tissue, with slow and shakey pace.
The tears she wipes away, in the truth and its ferments.
And 'til her dying day, her youth she will lament.


© Copyright 1999 Mona Lisa - All Rights Reserved
caroline
Senior Member
since 08-16-99
Posts 1251
http://members.xoom.com/bellad


1 posted 10-08-1999 09:06 PM       View Profile for caroline   Email caroline   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for caroline

How sad that she could not rejoice in the gift of growing old. I like this poem...I think there are many who will relate to looking over a shoulder at the past.

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"Tread softly, for I have spread my dreams under your feet"~~William Butler Yeats

Dr.Moose1
Member Elite
since 09-05-99
Posts 3505
Bewilderment , USA


2 posted 10-08-1999 09:10 PM       View Profile for Dr.Moose1   Email Dr.Moose1   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Dr.Moose1

Quite moving , and of a style which I am familiar with . Also , of a feeling with... unfortunately .
Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 08-22-99
Posts 23002


3 posted 10-08-1999 09:12 PM       View Profile for Denise   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Denise

Very well done. I enjoyed this story.

------------------
Denise
Mona Lisa
Member
since 08-25-99
Posts 100
Halifax, Nova Scotia


4 posted 10-08-1999 09:16 PM       View Profile for Mona Lisa   Email Mona Lisa   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Mona Lisa

Thanks to all of you for your nice compliments. I thought of the aloneness that some elderly people feel when they are all alone and no one comes to visit and keep them company. It is in situations like that, that a senior will be forced to rely on nothing but memories to pass away the time. So sad indeed, but I have seen it first hand as I used to work in with seniours.

Makes me want to be more aware of the pain that the elderly face as they grow old.
 
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