The Flower of Youth

a poem about growing old

The flower of youth wilts beneath the sun.
Gray hair appears, replacing gold.
My life’s winter is soon to come.

Spring was time of the forever-young;
believing in Never-land stories told.
But the flower of youth wilts beneath the sun.

Summer was a time of lively fun;
bronzed beauties, brave and bold.
Now, my life’s winter is soon to come.

Fall’s colorful days blend into one;
brown, red, orange, yellow, gold
and the flower of youth wilts beneath the sun.

Darkness prevails, the light has gone;
in my heart, the last vestiges of youth, I hold.
Yes, my life’s winter is soon to come.

The ties that bind have come undone.
The days shorten and grow cold.
No longer a flower wilting beneath the sun.
Alas! My life’s winter has finally come.