Peony

 The sun was slowly sinking in the west

As three tired old gals sat down to rest.

They chatted ‘bout the happenings of the day,

‘Bout some of the folks they’d see along the way.

Then the talk turned as it so often will,

To the empty chairs that no one else can fill.

Remembering each dear, departed friend –

Wondering just what would be their end.

One said she felt so all alone – so very cold –

That there was no sense at all in growing old.

One sat remembering her youth, straining for the sight

Of faces of her loved ones in the fading light.

Then the remaining wise one – a serene look on her face –

Told this tale to them, with great dignity and grace.

This is how I see my life – from start to bitter end –

A flower growing in a garden – to make a beautiful blend –

Perhaps as a peony in bud – in my adolescence grew –

Swelling with learning and love – enhanced by what I knew –

‘Til full maturity burst forth – I was in full bloom.

At this peak in my existence – there was no room for gloom.

With the withering of the blossom – that’s my declining years.

I’ve known love, I’ve felt the sun, I’ve no room for tears.

I’ll continue to live my life – no more desire for fame,

Just going day by day, ‘til my maker calls my name.

As the stars came out, twinkling in their light,

These friends felt very close, as they said “Good-night”.