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.