There´s no long life eternal do I want nor need,
Already garbed in wrinkle & old widow´s
weed,
Just give me the peace & quiet of my gentle
age,
As I now have wisdom of supposed gentle sage.
No harsh dyes & fillers to smooth ruts &
crease,
My silver halo flows free & now gives me
peace,
For me, no noisy music, of drum or clanking
tin,
My melodies now, of wave, bird & breeze,
my din.
No hard daubing of face, nor tight silly high-heels,
Just two gnarled old feet, no need for fancy
wheels,
Just rose touched cheek, no more need for disgrace,
My gentle ageing, I hold dearly & daily
now embrace.
On the dawn of my departing, I shall not be
screeching,
Only my old & used up arms, now empty &
far reaching,
And on dawn´s song, of sweet & humble turtle
dove,
I shall gladly fly up to my original home, far
up above.
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