Poem on Aging

time swings on our faces
leaving clutch marks 
in our impressionable skin

our hair is painstakingly painted
delicate shades 
of grey, white and silver

our bodies expand
like piñata balloons
or reflections in playful mirrors

and all the while
gleeful squeals of the fun fair
echo around our heads

reminding us all
of the transient joy
that is life!


  1. Another intriguing picture with a poem with its sound, and shape and content that really says something and we hear you loud and clear!!! D&M

  2. I am trying really hard to enjoy this aging thing! LOL. I will have to borrow your poem and remind myself it's all a fun fair! Thanks for writing and sharing.

    1. Yes, I think that's why I needed to write it! Thanks again for reading and commenting.

  3. The picture by the way, is my son The Actor playing with effects on the ipad. It is his mouth :-)

  4. Hair painstakingly painted ..? What hair?? You don't know what ageing is until you got no hair up there :-) I do have the expanding body bit though - will take your advice and enjoy that bit!


If a topic has special significance for you, or touches you in some way, I'd love to hear your story! I will return the favour and we will gently touch hands across the miles...or kilometres :-)