I Would Always Be Eighteen

We each give up our youth very grudgingly, one day at a time.
It creeps up so slowly we aren't aware we're reaching our prime
And each of us has the distinct feeling that our story is unique.
After all - it's life, pure and simple, that we forever seek.

When did that 18 year old girl become an older version of myself?
We attempt to minimize the symptoms and maximize what's left.
I did not acquiesce until I was the only soul I ever knew
Who couldn't face the obvious reality that continuously grew.

But in the physical reality I was forced to acknowledge and accept
I found another reality about the enduring soul of me that I kept;
'Twas the same, only wiser, more psychological and more enduring,
A beauty undiminished by years - rather enriched, assuring.

Lucile I. Burke
February 21, 1997

 

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The Everlasting Garden - poems by Lucile I. Burke
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The Everlasting Garden

I Know Now

Till Death Do Us Part

To Hold Your Tiny Hand

The Little Lost Lamb

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