Our Featured Privilege

Time is forever our constant... resist, and risk losing sight of the gift that is "getting older." So, to that... a quick nonet.

Though our reflections change, steadily...
wear the features of days gone, like
bright trophies of conquest; even
kings pray for silver crowns.
Relish the privilege
of long days, for
time is a
fleeting
thing.

Author's Note

Thank you for reading... should you decide to review, I will be sure to return the gesture. Honesty is always welcome.

Reviews

[Cassie]

Your writing is wisdom my friend. I am enjoying reading you

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

And I always enjoy your thoughts on my work.

[Chris Shaw]

There is such wisdom and beauty in your words Travis. Age with grace is something I need to work on.

Chris

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

I'm sure you will find the grace of getting older much sooner than you think.

[Renée]

Travis, your thoughts expressed made me smile. Graceful is this piece, just as growing older should be.

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

I'm glad it brought a smile to your face... your thoughts have more than returned the gesture.

[Sami Khalil]

Time is like a train on the tracks on eternity. It is surely a relative concept that we need for age, measurements and so many other things in life. Birth dates and death dates are very powerful and meaningful to many and many people. Our poet here feels all of this and shares it all with great perspective.

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

Thank you so much, old friend... your words are always felt.

[Sami Khalil]

As always welcome sir...

[Kelly Scheppers]

Both my parents and older sister died at very young ages, never having the privilege of growing old. This life will be the death of me - someday, but till then, I'm going to live it in a way that would make them most proud. Your poem reminds us to do just that. Beautifully penned, Travis...and good to see you!

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

It is most certainly good to see you as well. First, my condolences for your loss... unfortunately, I can relate on every level. The 4yr mark of my mother's death is approaching this month, she would be 54 this year. My father passed at 63, and I loss my elder brother when he was not much older than I am now. Life is a gift... sometimes we are too hung up on the byproduct that comes with living, instead of just living. Thank you for the sincere thoughts.

[barleygirl]

Privilege is misspelled in your title, I believe. I love this message. Since I just turned 63, I am very much in the throes of loving the differences a few decades can make! I love seeing a nonet . . . hardly ever see them, but they're fun to write. To be old is much harder than youth in some ways, but I wouldn't take nothing for my journey now (Maya Angelou) Fondly, Margie

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

Thank you for the endearing review and the sharp eye... proof I need to start revisiting my work more often. lol

[Lydia Shutter]

I am proud of every gray hair and every wrinkle. Yes, time is the constant...one we must all deal with. Very wise words and well written. Lydi**

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

Thank you, and I applaud you, far too many miss the value of getting "old."

[TrimarcoRansome]

Beautifully put! Time flies past so quickly, yet we always find time to reflect. Possibly a very wise message in that! Live for the moment and not day gone by.

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

Absolutely, some of us who feel "old" forget that it's a luxury not everyone gets to experience. Thanks for the uplifting review dear friend.

[Paul Bell]

Time waits for no man.
Fill every day like it was your last.
For the day you start looking back is the day that's already gone.

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

Your words ring with nothing but truth. Thank you for stopping by and reviewing this piece.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the form really propels the theme here as the words start out in longer lines and each one gets shorter.
the day we are born we start to die...and the day we start writing poetry is the day the words might do the same, until there is only that last one, the final syllable we write or utter...
and I for one, relish the privilege of getting to do this.
j.

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

Your words still have a way of leaving me inspired, old friend. Thank you for your thoughts.