No grecian urn nor sculpted monument
can live beyond the realms of space and time
But in these lines of skilled form and content
you will live on, the centre of my rhyme.
Ozymandias, mighty king of kings,
colossal statue turned to desert sand
Yet, Shelley’s verse awoke these lifeless things
immortalised this man from antique land.
Both clock and scythe circle with the seasons
We cannot escape Fortune’s deadly wheel
None are free from Nature’s laws and reasons
Yet. in this verse you are divine and real
Your beauty and worth forgotten never
You will live in this poem forever.
Look in the mirror and what do you see ?
This is your golden time, your early spring
A dew-fresh face, peachy and wrinkle free
You are sweetest rosebud near blooming
Your sparkling dark eyes of the deepest blue
are a hidden sea by Nature painted .
Your luscious berried lips of blushing hue
are with gentle lovers not acquainted.
Your vernal looks recall your mother’s prime
Beguiling, fair and lovely was she then
Before she faced the whips and scorns of time
But winter’s ragged hand will come again
To your daughter make your beauty’s bequest
Let her and this poem be death’s conquest.