805. The map of time upon a furrowed brow,

SONNET 805
By JH Sayyar
The map of time upon a furrowed brow,
Each line a tale that silent lips have told
The storms you faced, sweat upon the plow,
The nights alone, the memories grown old
Your eyes still shine beneath the folded skin,
Like lanterns dulled but never fully dimmed.
Though youth is gone, its echoes lie within,
In every smile that's wearied, yet untrimmed.
The mirror speaks, but cannot know thy grace,
Nor judge the beauty age alone can grant;
For wisdom walks beside that wrinkled face,
Love still blossoms where the flesh is scant.

So wear your years with honor, not disgrace
The soul grows richer as the skin grows base.