The Passing of Ages

A poem about the passing of a life

Weariness creeps, like vines round an ancient oak

with an ever tightening grip

not suffocating, yet gently reminding ~ it is time

The passing of ages, as the sun begins its last journey

descending, into the shadows

to sleep with legends past

When darkness falls, peace ebbs through the soul

old lights fade, becoming memories

entombed, in their own eternal mausoleum

Poetryman

Copyright © 2011 by Mike Sutcliffe

Author's Note

Any feedback welcome

Reviews

[Michael G.]

You can feel a silence and finality to this poem.
Well written, sir.

[Poetryman]

Thanks very much for the kind comment Michael ~ very much appreciated