Valsa George

A Lament

I know, I grow old….. I grow old
When silver threads peek in my head.
The flush on radiant cheeks wanes,
And a pallid tint creeps unseen.
Fading years have robbed the ardour
And a rigid sobriety sinks and settles.
I hear the howl of autumn winds,
That come to shake off the yellowing leaves.
Dragging tired feet through pavements
I try in vain to keep pace with the young.
Mind grows annoyed and distressed
As the bones beneath the skin go brittle.
The weary body spins rugged,
Like a rusted machine never overhauled.
The soul grows mutinous over things unknown
And reasons hard to trace.......!
There is a tumult in my silence
Like the undercurrents of calm waters.
Through miles on dreary miles of gloom
That stretch out before the eyes, endless,
Where can I find a quiet haven
To lower my burden and rest awhile?

Submitted: Sunday, May 13, 2012

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Comments about this poem (A Lament by Valsa George )

  • Gold Star - 22,434 Points Akhtar Jawad (2/8/2015 10:45:00 AM)

    Slowly, parting curtains
    The day emerges
    Like a lazy boy
    Disinclined to be roused from sleep
    It's beautiful and amazing..............10 (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 22,434 Points Akhtar Jawad (2/8/2015 10:40:00 AM)

    We all face old age but a poet can feel it more and can describe it in a beautiful poem........10 (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 15,255 Points Deepak Kumar Pattanayak (7/27/2014 12:47:00 PM)

    This is the universal truth.........Valsa........the autumn of life is sure to surface sooner or latter and we have to
    welcome it with reluctance.............great write as usual...... (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 13,830 Points Roseann Shawiak (12/18/2013 1:39:00 AM)

    Excellent poem, great take on aging. Can feel the burden of age, especially in last verse: Where can I find a quiet haven
    to lower my burden and rest
    a while.
    I'm sixty-three, but I have the wonder and curiosity of a child, still intact after all these years, it kind of makes up for the frailty of my body's aging. It keeps me always young in thoughts, and young at heart. Great poem. thank you for sharing it. RoseAnn (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 415 Points Krishnakumar Chandrasekar Nair (11/5/2013 8:09:00 AM)

    He who brought you here to dwell
    Will one day ring the bell
    And see you in heaven as well.........

    Very good poem - keep writing (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 6,663 Points Amitava Sur (10/21/2013 12:29:00 PM)

    Though it's a sorry state of life, but in our mortal life everyone has to face these exodus of youth, flamboyance.
    A harsh but very true. Nicely detailed. (Report) Reply

  • Silver Star - 9,695 Points Heather Wilkins (6/27/2013 3:00:00 PM)

    on old age. time goes so quickly. we all see it coming. nice write (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 1,479 Points Howard 'the motivational poet' Simon (12/21/2012 7:05:00 PM)

    Loded with realism and coded with lamentation. Well done my friend! (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 10,463 Points * Sunprincess * (12/9/2012 12:20:00 AM)

    a beautiful lament.this is a touching well written and thought provoking write..
    and also makes me feel the aging process is another of life's mysteries.. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 429 Points Chandra Thiagarajan (12/5/2012 8:33:00 AM)

    The Lament is so true to life. There are so many people living as described by you - -with a tumult in their silence-and suffering for a quiet haven! The poem is highly praise worthy having dealt with all the aspects of senility. (Report) Reply

  • Veteran Poet - 3,181 Points Walterrean Salley (10/18/2012 9:33:00 PM)

    Good discriptions. True to life. One must consider such facet as life progresses. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 187 Points Prasanna Kumari (9/1/2012 10:39:00 PM)

    being 60 i can feel that tumult in the silence... the insecurity and loneliness of the mind and the weakness of old age on the body also well expressed.... (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Www. (8/25/2012 11:13:00 AM)

    Transport of thoughts must be a processing of emotions dear to one. Ageing can be a rewarding experience as well. I often think about the master poets, philosophers and artists who died young and then begin to rejoice at my own life with a longer entity.As your hair turns white and skins loses its tone, you begin to be more attached to your mental properties which stay back in the real form or even with better claims. We were lucky for having not been babies for ever and similarly we are lucky to reach the next stage of less physical importance.Good sharing for many like to getting older and wiser too over here (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 52 Points Pankajam K (6/8/2012 11:25:00 AM)

    Nice one. The old age and associated stigmas narrated soulfully. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 250 Points Rajendran Muthiah (5/13/2012 11:26:00 PM)

    Wonderful poem on old age! The quiet haven is there. I don't know if there is a seat kept vacant for you. Rated *****. (Report) Reply

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