There is beauty in a rose
When new and fresh
Bright petals
Like young romance
But what of an old one? with
Faded colours
Fragile petals
And wilted leaves?
It’s only a rose.
What a fleeting life.
How can beauty remain
Does it fade away?
There is beauty in a song
With a clear, pretty tune
Full of emotion
That stirs my soul
But when it grows old?
With outdated style
And old fashioned music?
It’s just a song.
Overused and spent.
How can beauty remain
Does it fade away?
There is beauty in a story
With a lesson to teach
Black ink that holds colour
Worlds in the words.
But an old book?
With a cracked spine
The cover’s falling off
And pages held together
With tape and determination?
So what?
It’s a dusty old book.
It was well loved once, but
Who has time for fairytales anymore?
How can beauty remain
Does it fade away?
Well?
I think
That there’s beauty in a rose
When it’s past it’s prime
Not in it’s appearance,
But in the fond memories it holds.
There’s beauty in a song
That nobody sings anymore
The familiar tune
Brings a smile to my face.
And there’s beauty in a story
When it’s old and worn
The words I remember
Forever remain in my heart.
I was told
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
So when wrinkles tell tales
Old voices are familiar and loved
And grey hair holds memories
Maybe beauty lies
In love that never fades away
From times long ago,
But not forgotten.
The author’s bio in her own words
Rheanan Leah Tilsley is a sixteen-year-old poet who writes as a way to tell her story. She has been reading and telling stories since as long as she can remember, and poetry has become a way to paint out the pictures in her head.
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