Growing Old

By Sowmya Ch

Growing old is a boon.

Nevertheless, I am immune,

My life, never a silky cocoon,

A strong thirst to touch the moon.

Beyond sky was my limit,

Any chore, ready to commit,

Never misspent a single minute,

A wonderful path to visit,

Notions filled with high spirit.

Dismal failures stood a fragment,

But Rekindled hopes were pretty adamant.

Despite the difficulties, I lived the moment,

Making my way, a garden of entertainment.

Age is just a number, my statement.

The tenacity to achieve, surely cast,

The applauds for my zeal everlast,

Through wrinkles made a ridiculous contrast,

Recollecting memories of the past,

Revives my veins till last.

By Sowmya Ch