Poem: Late in the season

When sixty winter seasons

have danced across thy face

and the field of your proud beauty

has been laid to arid waste

When youthful facial dimple

has succumbed to aged wrinkle

and your once youthful beauty

has turned to toothless crinkle

When all the pills and potions

have stubbornly failed to restore

those classic beauteous features

That so recently went before

Then dear lady tell me please

when faced with this devastation

Will thy roving eye still twinkle

in youthful anticipation?


A final thought:

 You check the dressing table;

lift up things to look beneath

Do you sometimes despair dear lady

that you’ll ever find your teeth?


Written by Bill Conroy

Bill Conroy is a Tauranga based freelance writer and poet with a particular interest in historical non-fiction and composing WW1 poetry.

Read more from Bill on GrownUps here.