My Heart’s Age

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myheart

My Heart’s Age

Do I know how old my heart is?
Do I know its age?
Has it earned its idyll now, 
Has it burnt its rage?

It must be old, older than me, 
It’s showing signs of abuse;
Perhaps a lighter schedule now, 
Less of the fast and loose.

If only I could follow my heart
And it could read my mind,
I’d live within my dream and leave
My remnant life behind.

 

red line

 

 

3 thoughts on “My Heart’s Age”

  1. This is a great piece Roland, it ambles along like a summer stroll where the hedgerows keep you interested and smiling, then you turn a corner and something grabs you, a ruin, an old plough, a stone circle and you’re suddenly thinking deeper.
    Of course, I could’ve just said ‘great denouement’!

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