"Past My Prime"
Youth Is Fleeting and Precious
Treasure it While It is With You
Like the bud of a delicate flower
On the few, punctuated moments
before it bursts into blossom, once
every flower only blooms once
and blossoms and ripens and dazzles
but after a few years, age seeps in
by thirty you're old and tired again
the blossom in One's cheek has turned pale
The youthful heart can dream
new beginnings and hopes of all
By thirty you've already bloomed
and when the fireworks tempt your heart
you'll hide your face sadly yet wisely
and remark to your husband,
"We're getting Old!"  He Says,
"Well--did you just now notice that?"
I smile sadly and answer, "Yes."
In Jesus' Name,
Amen