the world is old, yet
the new day is young
we are older now, but
let us fondly remember
when we were young
and our hearts less burdened
by cares and troubles, and
life held for us such promise then
our lives are as the flower
that blooms bright with vigor, and
then slowly withers and fades away
desiccated petals, like memories of lives past,
blow away in the evening wind,
and are forgotten
but, the rose garden remains . . . for young lovers
the world is old, yet
the new day is young, and
the river of life flows on
copyright 2018 – larrysmusings.com
beautiful, lyrical…appreciated.
Thanks for the kind words.