Elderly Youth

Dedicated in memory of Ruby Bryant

Tender care, I guess you could call it,
The unstopable power of an elder's wit.
The touch of a hand and the kind words they've said
Lead you to think that you have nothing to dread.

Soothing you softly and lovingly to sleep,
They hold you tenderly in their arms when you weep.
Seeing the love and heart-felt care
They give to you in hopes you'll be there.

Though they are old, they are still little,
And though they are strong, they are now brittle.
They reach out to youthful sinners,
So in the long run they will be winners.

They're trying to grab that wishing star in the sky,
So that they can get on by and by.
The young ones can be so rude,
But that doesn't change the elder's mood.

Even though they're mistreated,
They will not be defeated.
To see how they put together the broken pieces bewilders me.
But all it is, is elderly youth, you see.

Copyright © 1997, Shana Wilson

Shana's Poetry Page