958. When time draws its lines upon man’s face,

SONNET 958
By JH Sayyar
When time draws its lines upon man’s face,
And silver strands outshine the darkest hair,
When vigor yields to slow, reflective pace,
Steps firm grow cautious, worn with care
Love, like roses that blooms beyond its time,
Still sings with voice untouched by years.
Its fire defies the bells of age’s chime,
Dries the heart’s long tides of secret tears
So hands grow frail, their touch can ignite
Warmth no winter frost has power to quell.
Eyes grow dim, know love’s perfect light,
And in its glow, the soul finds youth to dwell.

Men with coming years fade like autumn’s leaf
But love stands green, in spring’s bright belief.