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THE AGEING PAIN : SONNET 87

The glass taunts you with your grotesque reflection -
A caricature of you that your age shows;
Then rocks you down the busy morning sun
When limps your shadow 'neath your very nose.
The crowd once you made fun of for being aged,
Now suddenly appears all young and romping 
If all around you are icons of David
And you're lone individual on earth ageing.
An escape, or an escapade, you preach -
Like documented preachers - "Life is short,
That it's too false for aggrandizing outreach..." -
Tears hidden - an old king on loss of his fort,
His empire, his young queens, his plenteous treasures,
The sun, the stars, birds and bees, fruit and flowers...

- N. P. SAMAL 

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