Waning away

 Standing fore a mirror, I think of you,

lost in those eyes, my reverie ensues.

Playful, cheerful, Ah! what fun,

wrinkles of time had touched you none.

You worked when it mattered

 like a diligent sleuth,

whiled away the rest, sometimes

carelessly, to tell you the truth.

Bright eyes, free heart, innocence from which

pleasure others derive,

in the ebbs and flows of your laughter

the world felt alive.

Now all is on the wane,

rickety structure in lieu of a sinewy frame.

Silent betrayal growing day by day,

all around coursing senile decay.

Around the eyes are wrinkles many fold,

deep lines on forehead in a clouded mind's hold.

Trembles and tremors are companions constant,

 oiling every organ is ever so important.

Oh well! It can't be helped, nature will take it's course,

"No regrets" is the mantra to a life without remorse.

I look away from the mirror, feeling cold,

after all I am you, just a little old.

P.S: This year’s first post/poem. It’s about growing old. How at times you look at yourself and it reminds you of your younger self.Tried to look at the process of aging from an elderly’s perspective in this poem.