By Lynne R. Dorfman
I am participating in #SOL Tuesdays. Thanks to twowritingteachers for providing this space. This poem was written from a mentor text, Swift Things Are Beautiful by Elizabeth Coatsworth, a favorite poem of mine.
Old things are comfortable:
faded blue jeans
with holes in both pockets
and tears in the knees.
The smile that appears on my grandmother’s face
or the wrinkly frown when I’ve fallen from grace.
Old things are beautiful:
the clock in its tower
that tolls oh so sweetly
the change in the hour.
The leathery look of my grandfather’s hands
and beaches covered with timeless white sands.
Old things are wondrous:
the freckle-faced night
dressed up in diamonds
to give Earth its light.
The limbs of the apple tree dripping with fruits,
Its sturdy broad trunk and its gnarled strong roots.
New things are challenging:
the skier’s big thrill
when he steps from the lift
and attacks his first hill.
The child that bikes her two-wheeler with pride
Or a youngster who’s taking his first pony ride.
New things are frightening:
A groom turning blue
as he stands with his bride
and whispers, “I do!”
The writer’s attempt to fill virgin page,
A parent’s first try to be patient and sage.
New things are happening:
Man walks in space,
Upheaval in cities,
Freedom’s new case.
Jets that propel through the barrier of sound,
Organs transplanted, vaccines to be found.
Old things are dying:
the blazing hot sun
that burns up its life
and will one day be done.
New things are beautiful:
Freedom’s seeds that will flower
and reach for the heavens with God’s given power.