A Poet’s Self-Portrait

Golden tresses with a touch of frost
Fall in cascading curls
Around a young-old face.

Laugh lines and worry lines
Write the story
Of unwise choices and consequences
Flowing into restoration of joy and blessing.

Blue eyes turn green
With health and joy
Twinkling about life and light.

A sturdy, solid frame
Belies hidden weakness and pain.

Sometimes hobbling, sometimes dancing,
Perpetual motion gets the job done
Until exhausted fatigue forces rest.

Nerves of steel and cool composure
Cover a woman-child
Loving people but misunderstanding life.

Calm, quiet courtesy
Allows spirited rage to hide.

Her moments lacking mercy and grace
Hide in a tabernacle of the Precious Blood
That announces the presence
Of a pure princess of light and grace.

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