Darling, I am growing old,
Silver threads among the gold,
Shine upon my brow today,
Life is fading fast away.
But, my darling, you will be,
Always young and fair to me,
Yes, my darling, you will be
Always young and fair to me.
Silver threads among the gold,
Shine upon my brow today,
Life is fading fast away.
But, my darling, you will be,
Always young and fair to me,
Yes, my darling, you will be
Always young and fair to me.
I see many silver threads shining on my brow tangled with my brown hair. I see hands look like my mother's hands - blue veins, crinkled skin, wrinkles around each wrist like a thin multistrand bracelets. When did this happen? How can it be that unbelievably most of my life has been lived and the remainder is going fast.
Sixty-five years old! That's OLD!!! Really OLD. And I'm not old...not really. I'll admit I am not a teenager any longer or even a 20 or 30 year old, but truthfully I think inside this saggy baggy elephant of a body, I am...at most...in my mid40s...maybe even younger.
