Old dogs learn new tricks
Though maybe not as quickly
Patience a virtue
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Tag Archives: aging
So Lovely Are You
So lovely are you,
A flower frozen in time,
Beauty eternal.
To my eyes forever young,
Though to others we grow old.
Age, is illusion,
Wasted for generations
On those bearing youth.
A shame and curse to be sure
For they are blinded by years.
One day they will know
What we begrudgingly learned,
That love knows no bounds.
It is beauty internal
That time cannot take away.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Mind Fading Away
Mind fading away
Ravaged by illness and age
Fate of so many
Such a sad state of affairs
Watching those we love forget
≈
Feeling so helpless
We’ve become total strangers
Passing in the night
Frustration steeped in sadness
Becomes our permanent state
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
How Fragile The Body Is
How fragile the body is,
Abused in youth…
Cigarettes, whiskey and lust.
No worries,
It will last forever…
Agile and strong.
Foolish we are in our early years
Believing we are invincible.
Then suddenly we awaken,
Backs ache,
Knees crack,
Eyesight weakens;
Who is this elder in the mirror?
Perhaps the best we can do is to live well,
Saving a piece of this body for old age.
The day the first pains arrive
Is the day we finally realize
…We aren’t immortal.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Ravages Of Time
Ravages of time
I see it in the mirror
Wrinkled, grey and thin
Underneath it all I’m young
Still childlike in my mind
This shell is just that–
A shell, weather-worn with age
To be discarded
But this is not the real me
Only a facade that I show the world
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Invincible Youth (Tanka)
Invincible youth
Passes in the blink of an eye
Inevitable
As it always has with age
Though not always with wisdom
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
I Strive To Be As The Sapling
I strive to be as the sapling;
Flexible in the path of the raging gale.
The sapling does not struggle against its foe,
It does not stand rigid as an elder,
It bows gracefully and without pretense.
Even in its youth
The sapling knows it could not withstand the fury,
So by yielding it survives unscathed.
This is the wisdom lost to maturity.
With age the sapling becomes increasingly inflexible
Until in time its trunk refuses to bend.
We are not so unlike the simple tree,
Showing great resilience in childhood,
Becoming unwavering and obstinate with age.
Oh what I would not give to be as the lowly sapling.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
I Never Really Knew Her
My breath floated silently toward Heaven.
I watched as it disappeared
Blending seamlessly with the cloud filled sky.
With upturned collar
I stood with loved ones feeling completely alone;
Such a strange feeling this is.
I had known her for almost fifty years,
But suddenly came to realize…
I scarcely knew her at all.
Self-absorbed with my life, my own family,
Thinking she would always be there
I never thought to ask who she was,
What her life was like,
Even where she born;
It just never occurred to me to ask
And never came up in conversation.
My picture of her had always been the same,
White hair, as white as newly fallen snow,
Her cheek, soft and smooth to the kiss,
Kind and joyful, yet quiet as a mouse;
Always taking a backseat to the love of her life.
Sadly, her time has now passed
Taking with it the story that was her.
I am left to gather up snippets,
Like those tossed on the cutting room floor
Selectively shared second hand.
My chance has passed to hear her story
In the truth that can only come from living it.
No fault can be placed, but on me
So on me alone the fault must lie.
By divine retribution, I stand here,
In the icy chill of winter to bid farewell
To one I loved dearly,
More dearly than she would ever know
And with profound sadness I’ve come to realize
…That I never really knew her at all.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
What Is This Thing Mystical
What is this thing mystical?
One so oft used to determine one’s worth,
To discriminate,
To determine wisdom,
To justify foolishness,
Wasted on the young,
Marking the beginning,
Anticipating the end,
Setting milestones,
Telling us when to leave,
Removing individuality,
Segregating the masses,
Coming too slowly,
Wished to slow down,
Terrible early on,
Then sweet,
Forty old of youth,
Fifty young of old,
Then the precious metal of gold.
Why the stigma?
Why the worry?
This mystic–age,
It’s no different than its predecessor,
No different than its successor,
It’s just a number,
Like any other.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Prompt: Jeremy’s Daily Challenge – Friday’s Threesome 9 May
Quote: Forty is the old age of youth, fifty is the youth of old age – Victor Hugo
Peace, Goodwill Towards Men
Peace, goodwill towards men–
I believed this once,
A long, long time ago it seems.
I can still remember her smile,
The love of my life,
Us…hand-in-hand,
Not a care in our perfect little world.
And the kids–
Oh how they loved Christmas.
Not just the presents,
The paper, the bows,
But the time we spent together.
We were a family,
A perfect design by Hallmark.
Now she’s gone,
The years were not kind to her;
And the kids–,
Grown, families of their own–
Don’t come around much anymore.
Hell, I don’t remember the last time.
The gesture of a card would be nice
Just to let me know they cared,
That they remembered me,
But no…
It was not meant to be,
Alone I sit, stranded for the holidays.
This wasn’t how I saw my later years,
Aged, lonely,
Awaiting the ghost of Christmas past.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
~
Writing Prompt: Tuesday’s Thinking 17 December – By Jeremy Farmer – The Boi Poet
Dom DiFrancesco 