Tuesday, 17 May 2011

Age Comes

Age comes
and with silver paintbrush
it frosts my hair, dulls my vision
and steals the elasticity from my skin
like a thief in the night

I feel the disintegration
like salt falling
white grains
bouncing
from the polished surface
of my life

It brings gifts they say
and I await them with eager and open arms
cynicism silenced by the Pollyanna of me

And meanwhile I wipe up the spills
and remind myself to stop holding my breath
as I watch age creeping across my face like a vine

.
© Susannah Bec 2011

21 comments:

Elizabeth said...

Actually, although I don't particularly like the reality, I like your poem about it. I'm reaching for that graceful acceptance, but haven't yet quite found it fully. Maybe I never will. I think I feel another protest poem rising to the surface, lol.

Elizabeth

Susannah said...

Thanks Elizabeth. :-)

I would love to read your protest poem when it arises! lol

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Beautiful, Susannah, though I suspect your age is far less than mine, which makes you a spring chicken:) I love "frosts my hair" and "the polished surface of my life". Good one!

Susannah said...

Thanks Sherry. :-)

Asobime said...

How did I miss this??? I LOVE it!

And it resembles me...

We think we are invincible, forever young! and it's not such a looking in the mirror, it's the tone of the skin under our arms, the dryness of it all, and yes, the grey hair....(that is easily fixed!) But I'm protesting it...and not going gracefullly into that foul night....

Avocado masks do wonders and you can eat whatever drops off.

Love this poem!

Lady Nyoo

Susannah said...

Thanks very much Lady Nyo, I am glad you could identify with this.

... and I love the sound of the avocado face mask. ;-)

Karuna said...

This is beautiful. I love "as I watch age creeping across my face like a vine"

Susannah said...

Thanks Karuna, it is good to see you here. :-)

Jane Doe said...

Very well written with such expressive imagery. Well done!

Susannah said...

Thanks Jane. :-)

Good to meet you.

Marian said...

whoosh, i am living your poem over here, very resistant and irritated by it! lovely and true poem about something we must learn to love. i am not there yet, sounds like you aren't, either.

Judith C Evans said...

The line "remind myself to stop holding my breath" rings true for me. Beautifully and creatively written poem.

Renee said...

When I look in the mirror next I will think of your words here. I have so much white now and there are those times...but really, accepting age gracefully is what we all hope for.

Poets United said...

salt...vines...in the meantime poems

great piece!

Susannah said...

Thanks everyone for taking the time to read, and for your comments. They are much appreciated.

Susannah :-)

andymac89 said...

I can't relate yet but maybe in a few decades! :P Brilliant poem.

Jingle Poetry said...

you make things better despite some hard facts in reality ..
eloquent and beautiful poetry.

thanks for sharing.

Bee's Blog said...

A great piece of writing that struck a chord! I am sure you are younger than me. I am growing old disgracefully - off to the hair dresser this weekend - I wonder what my hair's original colour was??!

Morvah said...

Only just caught up with this Susannah.. I'm sure my aging is much less graceful than yours! Vines are more beautiful the older they grow are they not? - and more sweetly fruitful. Thank you, x

Dave said...

Susannah, being new to your blogs I have been checking out your various sites. I was really impressed with your poem "Age Comes." I thought it summed up our older lives precisely. Well done! - Dave

Susannah said...

Thanks very much everyone! I really appreciate you taking the time to stop by and leave a comment. :-)

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