These were her hands <br />Now creased with age <br />Her unfilled plans <br />Had formed her cage <br /> <br />With every fine line <br />Upon her soft skin <br />They did define <br />What once had been <br /> <br />The woman so frail <br />Knew not her own face <br />Her skin now so pale <br />With lines to trace <br /> <br />She stood by a well <br />Not knowing time <br />Casting the spell <br />Now facing her prime <br /> <br />The woman she saw <br />So young and alive <br />Not even one flaw <br />As she did then thrive <br /> <br />A feeling of sorrow <br />Attacked from within <br />Approaching the morrow <br />Where change would begin <br /> <br />All that had passed <br />All that once was <br />Was now in her past <br />And forming her flaws <br /> <br />A ripple there made <br />The Spell now broken <br />Days of youth fade <br />Disappointment unspoken <br /> <br />For the days are fast <br />As are the years <br />Nothing will last <br />And forgetful are tears<br /><br />Zoe Elsworth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rippled-reflection/
