[Phonoho]

Though time hath not much ravaged you,
its stealth hath left its haloed shine
'bout thy wearied shoulders,
so oft mistook in harried youth
as consequent of age
Silent as a milkmaid's daughter,
destined as a lamb to public slaughter,
etched in records seldom seen
'cept by some errant mage-
a memory of life in alabaster
a treasury for thine
in the measured hereafter,
a learned patina, earned
to compliment the sage

[Lubesh]

Beautiful. Makes me envious. One day someone may write just that for me. You did that as we know you can it seems, effortlessly and graceuflly. Sorry, but just Wow.

[Phonoho]

Thanks, cousins. Been sittin' on this. Had some trouble before I realized I was trying to force it into varied stanzas. I'm still not keen on the closing lines. Seems to resolve abruptly.

[Lubesh]

Ha it been ahdy rhyme but idon't thinkso....least i ddin't get that. end seemsfine but isur baby.

[Phonoho]

Fact is, I'll probably end up cannibalizing pieces of this for something else.