Age has you feel
The consequence
Of life’s brush
Upon your person,
And so instils
To lay shades vital
Of wisdom’s colour,
Upon the canvas
Of your soul,
And equally so
Holds give repair
To shadowy greys
Of life’s excesses,
That shape in part
The art of aging,
To alas include
Less than artful lines,
Carved thus by time,
Tho rather worthy
Said so unkind,
While age emerges
The living tableaux,
Meant to reflect
Man’s eschatology!
Poetry on a Canapé 