Round, like yesterday’s wine stain on the dirty table cloth,
And drops of sunlight shining on cold and foamy froth
And the ripples in the pond and a net of spider’s spinning
Are all just circles without end or beginning.
And time wears out the days with the hands of the clock
Which grind the hours slowly, very silently without shock.
There is no spell to less
Your old age loneliness.
.
In the evening when the setting sun shines through closed eyelashes
Like a firework of golden sparks that light flames in coally ashes,
And the stars on your retina draw streaks in the sky,
Then alas as night falls away all your dreams do fly.
And a clock with crooked hands that to pieces grind the time
Has chased away the summer and covered the ground with rime.
There is no spell to less
Your old age loneliness.
.
Remember those smooth pebbles in your memory’s vault,
The most beautiful one lost through your own fault.
While strolling along the beach every shell was a jewel,
But now all you see is nothing but boulders rough and dull.
Hear her whispers in the sound of the restless sea
Asking you why didn’t you share your life with me?
When you said goodbye to your summer in the soft autumn rain
Falling leafs with the color of her silky hair caused you grief and pain.
There is no spell to less
Your old age loneliness.
GKC 2024, Based on “Cirkels” of Herman Van Veen,
Windmills of your mind.
Guido's Stories 