Love For All Seasons

By Marcella Leff

In the autumn of our lives,

the shadows grow long.

A tapestry with threads of grace

brings hope that survives,

that another love may come along,

sometimes at a slower pace.

At 74, my steps shuffle and slow,

but resiliency is still inside.

A lifetime at times displaced,

with wisdom that continued to flow

where memories reside

with sorrows barely traced.

In the laughter lines on my face,

Love, like Spring oaks has formed

with roots unwavering and strong.

My whole being found a sacred place

when its growth weathered storms

and answered me all along.

Each wrinkle is a chapter,

each gray hair a verse,

composing a life with a strong spine,

without meanings blurred,

sincerely immersed

to give this loving heart of mine.

What I learned in my seventies,

for a love that is true,

cannot be compared

to summers in my twenties.

There should not be much ado

for feelings shared.

In my winter years, I don’t ask why,

a peace of mind, a deeper meaning

is to cherish a lover’s embrace.

Tomorrow I could die.

I nourish what a lover can bring,

with smiles on my wrinkled face.

By Marcella Leff