SONNET 172
By JH Sayyar
When about youth in lone I ruminate,
The glass shows me a wrinkled face!
Laughing at me gaily does confiscate,
Dries all my tears, robs all my grace,
Naked eyes see not how age and youth,
Live both as in milk cream and butter,
The milk is soured; its naughty ruth,
I call life it force when I alone mutter
When youth wears a new knitted dress,
Looks pretty like a moving scarecrow,
In the new world, hailed youth’s ingress,
Now the world welcomes your brow.
Ah! Youth and age rest in the lap of years,
Virtue prolongs life curtails human fears.
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