SONNET 167
By JH Sayyar
Spend smiles less, keep for old age,
None gives you this precious gift,
Your smile’s lock in the years’ cage,
You feel its worth; when you drift.
Ask the mirror where goes the smile
Bounds the heart leaves you forever,
None is ready to kiss; awaits awhile,
Your false pride, time waves devour.
O My Fair! In old age you realize!
In the vision self a pretty scarecrow,
Attract the kids with the hollow eyes,
Youth love lays in the wrinkles I trow.
Each wrinkle tells; a tale on the face,
Time writes it to enhance the grace!
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