Thanks to all who commented on yesterday's post. Mom sent me this poem by Texas poet Karle Wilson Baker (1878-1960). It does not appear to be copyrighted so here it is.
Let me grow lovely, growing old—
So many fine things do:
Laces, and ivory, and gold,
And silks need not be new;
And there is healing in old trees,
Old streets a glamour hold;
Why may not I, as well as these,
Grow lovely, growing old?
So many fine things do:
Laces, and ivory, and gold,
And silks need not be new;
And there is healing in old trees,
Old streets a glamour hold;
Why may not I, as well as these,
Grow lovely, growing old?
And what could be lovelier in the spring than these fine old willows which are coming into flower in a park this week in our city?
Growing old sure beats the alternative.
ReplyDeletePS: I assume that copyright or not, as long as you attribute something of that length it should be okay. Mind you, I have absolutely no true knowledge to back that up. :)
My sentiments exactly! And your photo is superb. Looks like Spring!
ReplyDeleteI love that poem. Very nice thought.
ReplyDeleteLike a fine wine, right? :-)
ReplyDeleteWith age comes sweet, sweet wisdom.
Cheers (pun intended?),
Aletheia
Beautiful picture and yes I would echo the sentiment of that poem.I don't want to be a miserable old woman.
ReplyDeleteBlessings,Ruth