Growing older

Time drapes its cloak upon my days,

As golden light begins to fade.

The years have carved their gentle lines,

A tapestry of shifting times.

Wisdom whispers through the years,

In laughter shared and fallen tears.

The mirror shows a life well-spent,

In every crease, a story lent.

Memories, like leaves, drift down,

Softly settling on the ground.

Though age may bend the body’s frame,

The spirit burns with constant flame.

With each new dawn, a chance to see,

That growing old’s a gift to me.