Once through very different eyes
I viewed life's fleeting race . . .
When I was sweet sixteen with
dew of youth upon my face ~

And ran I on wholesome & blithe
invincible thought I . . .
Through glasses of rose~colour
I viewed God's azure sky ~

Warnings came ~ to stop awhile
the perfumed roses smell . . .
But twentyish ears are heavy
they just don't listen well ~

The years flew by as years will do
marriage ~ children, bore I three . . .
Eyes and ears of forty~plus
can better hear and see ~

The "grands" arrived to bless our lives
each one a dear surprise . . .
And as is wont ~ became grown men
before our very eyes ~

The eldest asked me just today
"Have things changed since your youth . . .
Like do you think quite differently"
I replied ~ "This is the truth" ~

" My dash slowed from sprint to walk
"mature's" the word I use . . .
Each wrinkle's worth a thousand words
"changed" ~ yea, to call it this, I choose . . .

"When roses bid me stop awhile
to share their sweet perfume . . . I
think me back & thank my God
tho' Youth has lost its bloom ~

Breathe their lovely fragrance
list' to Mockingbird & Dove . . .
Pause in meditation pondering
Father's wondrous Love ~

And count my blessings one by one
for ALL He's given me . . .
Advice is cheap ~ mistakes are not
THANK GOD FOR M A T U R I T Y:-)

Mary Carter Mizrany
September 25, 2004
Copyrighted. All rights reserved.

All poems listed in