– begs not dispel –
How can one tell If still of need, Man’s craggy shell Near gone to seed, Suggests farewell And denies plead, Begs not dispel The while he lives, May find to dwell Where soul outlives, Said craggy shell Tho mayn’t forgive, Portends bordering hell!
written in Sweetsburg © Jean-Jacques Fournier
Poetry on a canapé 
The craggy shell near gone to seed. Hmm. Doesn’t sound like a happy persona covering. Interesting.
Ah Paulette, it becomes a question of interpretation, as in a positive or negative side of aging. The positive is the acquiring of wisdom of the inner being, that which far replaces the visual and preoccupation of our physical, within reason. Happy or unhappy, one has to learn to accept the inevitable, craggy shell and all.
Yes. Well said. For many, attention on the outer is what is seen and causes suffering. Lot of good thought this has provoked. A sign of great poetry.
Thanks again, Paulette…
Jean-Jacques
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You have captured the angst of discovery, Jean-Jacques!! We embrace different shells and lose the joy of embracing our real and authentic self.
Yes I have, Rebecca, and humanly so one must ultimately adjust and make do with what nature imposes on all creatures, including that of, for some, living long enough to developing that symbolic craggy shell. Thankful that I have so far, having only the outer shell that seemingly needs bear witness to eventually craggy. Thus so yet held by some, a most important side of being. Of that I need not be concerned, save keeping one’s brain constantly well exercised, a pleasure in which I indulge on a daily basis and the gods willing shan’t dispel !