My friends have aged, so have I with them,
But nor have they, nor I, why says my eye
If blind to read distorted form and frame,
Stubble grey and face shriveled, shrunk and dry.
We stand like ageless trees, from depth of past,
With branches, boughs, foliage - all evergreen;
In mischiefs, jokes, chit-chats is braced each part,
Years gone, same comeliness, same childhood grin.
And dread the 'age-eaters' of stress, fatigue, so on
To invade our company of 'elderly boys'
If in the Paradise we've fallen and feed on
Ambrosia of juvenile jestings and joys.
Bless'd are we to be each day together,
Together young will we endure forever.
- N. P. SAMAL
Nice poem sir
ReplyDeleteMARVELLOUS Indeed...
ReplyDeleteAge is just another number...
Very nice sir
ReplyDeleteNice Sir
ReplyDelete