Poem

Beauty

I once saw a tree
With a rugged old trunk,
All black and twisted and rough;

Yet soft on its branches
Sat delicate flowers--
Crowded, with not room enough.

The contrast was odd,
One I'd not seen before,
And yet, I was not quite surprised,

For this contrast exists
In a wizened old face
When there's delicate grace in the eyes.

I've seen it in hands
That were wrinkled and worn,
Yet which blossomed with joy as they served;

And in lips deeply etched
Sharing tender, sweet words,
Or transformed with a smile's playful curve.

:-)
by Carol