In the twilight of my years, I find
A gentle peace, an ease of mind.
Silver threads among the gold,
Stories of life, quietly told.
Wrinkles map the journeys past,
Memories like shadows cast.
In the mirror, a face of grace,
Time has etched its soft embrace.
Hands once strong, now tender, soft,
Yet still they lift, they hold aloft.
Each line a tale, each scar a song,
Of days remembered, lost, and long.
The dance of youth has slowed its pace,
Yet wisdom shines in its place.
In the garden of life’s late stage,
Blooms the quiet strength of age.
Eyes that twinkle with stories old,
A heart that beats with courage bold.
In old age, there’s beauty rare,
A life well lived, beyond compare.