Two Stories

once i was young and lissome,
a tight bud of youth in my prime,
now I am crinkled and shrivelled
as happens to all in time.

once I had velvet complexion,
as soft as the dew of the dawn,
now life’s wear and tear is evident,
in a visage that looks tired and worn.

once all the youth surrounded me,
i was sheltered and shaded, and strong,
now all that freshness has faded,
and yet, some beauty lives on.

© ceenoa

My Mum’s an Octogenarian

Mum is 80 (1)

My Mum had a birthday – she turned 80 today,
and she jiggled with glee at her afternoon tea,
she lit the candles, and then blew them out,
then we sang Happy Birthday, and all gave a shout.
A box full of memories, the gift that we gave,
scrolls rolled with love, like a small treasure cave,
to be read on the days when she needs a cheer up,
with a biscuit to nibble and a warm milky cup.
I see in her smile, in her dear blue eyes,
the life she has lived has not made her tired,
of the joys to be found in the small things in life,
like a fresh baked cheesecake, and a large sharp knife,
of sitting around and having a chat,
of nothing particular, just this and that,
so raise your glass high with your favourite libation,
a toast to my Mother – an 80 year Celebration.

© ceenoa

Mum is 80 (3)