Sonnet 3

When I close my eyes then I look upon,

What my eyes have seen when my eyes were young;

Memories that were made for sight to see through,

Decay like the light of the setting sun.

How the years have passed, though I've seen but few,

So thus the idle wind of time has stirred

To cloud the months and taint the seasons hue,

Where day and week are but shadows unheard.

But hear the seconds and the hours chime,

To shorten future and make old my past,

Am I a child in the eyes of time

Or has my line been well and truly cast ?

If I am but old, then what am I now...

The greenest leaf upon the autumn bough ?

Reviews

[Beautiful Brat]

Definitely different.
Enjoyed reading & the image you portrayed.

[PJ]

thank you so much