at 50 -

the dark moon years

the cycles out of turn and burns away
passions turn to erudite diversions
eyes alight in joy of contemplation
as gray temples transform into a crown
now that half a century has passed me
by and by, i still cry sometimes, and though
the raging hormones with their dip and dive
i am alive and thrive in solitude
for that sweet knight i yearned for at one time
i see is no aficionado

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