Ageing

My sight declines but still the sky is wide.

As sense decays my joys more keenly grow.

Mundane, unnoticed things are sanctified.

 

I heard the thrush and robin as they cried.

I glory in the flowers that briefly glow.

My sight declines but still the sky is wide

 

Abroad I went and England I decried.

Now it’s a source of subtle, joys I know.

Mundane, unnoticed things are sanctified.

 

The print grows small and letters seem to hide.

The stars grow few like words and facts I know.

My sight declines but still the sky is wide

 

In friends I little knew I now confide

As children of my children I watch grow.

Mundane, unnoticed things are sanctified.

 

As into hateful, age, unstopped I slide

To old familiar, simple things I go

My sight declines, but still the sky is wide

Mundane, unnoticed things are sanctified

 

Peter M. Grinham 23^rd April 2015