The annual withering of body;
Primeval herbage of my soul alive;
Transformed all by Time that's never tardy
To arrive, —interfering in my life.
...
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Dear poetess you echo my fast fading youthful joys....But don't worry life is beautiful with dying joy.... whatever has gone has left behind a mature mind..serene contemplative. And wise...what is, , , , more beautiful...
A wonderful sonnet that focuses on past joyful memories which can very much be generalized... Brilliantly penned!
In forties such feelings are normal and I can relate to this Sonnet. With time everything fades but love remains and it grows in leaps and bounds. Loved it, thanks for bringing back some nostalgic moments of past.100++
I love this sonnet. Our body indeed being hammered by time. But the beauty within is truly left untouched by this thief of youth. Excellent poem, Mihaela. Thought provoking!