Touch of silver in moonlit space
Cobwebs, darkness, lines to trace
Ages that have worn you well
And lingered in places where they dwell
Smell of parchment worn and thin
Moisture, dryness, and moist again
Rends you till joints ache and refuse
The simplicity of a once youthful move
Yet, warmed by fire and cooled by ice
Fingers that have tempered nice
For touches both sure and gentle
Along thin shoulders just to settle
In camaraderie and love, born of the fear
We hadn’t expressed ourselves to those dear
For we all, travelers, will move on from here.
RED GLADIOLA 
I can, in so many ways, relate to this. Lovely.
Thanks! I’m glad it touched you in some way. ❤
I really like this!
One suggestion for line 8, though: you could substitute a one-syllable word like “grace” for the multi-syllabled “simplicity” which rather disrupts the rhythm.
Thanks!
“In camaraderie and love, born of the fear
We hadn’t expressed ourselves to those dear
For we all, travelers, will move on from here.”
Amen. And thank you for reading my blog post this morning.
Thank you! And it was a good read. =)
❤
Absolutely beautiful
Thanks!