ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

The Marks of the Time Lord

Years slip by at first so slowly,
birthdays come but once a year,
but they quickly gain momentum
as the years just disappear.
Sadly, age just comes a creeping,
and at first we pay no heed,
but the greying hair and wrinkles
duplicate with fright'ning speed.
Mirror, mirror, how you taunt me
with grotesque reflections there.
Twisted tortured face that haunts me,
toothless grin and vacant stare.
Yet I stand in stern defiance,
yielding not to Lord of Time.
Magic potions, moisturisers
masking, hiding every line.
Martialling all my defences,
halt the rot that age inflicts.
Send the troops out to the trenches
as the clock mockingly ticks.
But inertia soon takes over,
I can hold back time no more.
Raise the white flag at the battle,
surrender now, I've lost the war.
Yes, the years go by with ever
increased speed, relentless haste,
as the scratch marks of the Time Lord
criss-cross on my weathered face.


Copyright (c) Allan Cropper May 2015

Sad but true Allan, and something all of us can relate to! Nice poem with great title, and the raising of the white flag in surrender is an effective couple of lines

Thanks Catherine, although I haven't quite raised the white flag yet

Ha! I hope not - me neither!

Well done Allan (from one with a sagging superstructure and a face like target practice) ...

There's only one escape and that's not preferable.

Heather

Good health is the slowest way to die ...

I prefer to think good health is the best way to LIVE.

If we believed in honest advertising these lines would be all that some cosmetic companies would need to verify their products

Magic potions, moisturisers
masking, hiding every line.
Martialling all my defences,
halt the rot that age inflicts.

Enjoyed the poem Allan - the truth hurts - getting old is a bitch

You could always try a Dorian Gray.