Without Regret

Sometimes they’re just words…

Should I regret this life well lived

when night time comes and stars look down

then I should surely reassess

and count the costs, repent the loss

to find the joy that like gold veins

runs through this rock on which we built

and lived and loved and spent our days

for these are all were gifted free

until like sand they run away

through fingers old and worn and laced

across our chests and unto sleep

Author: Michael

Husband, dad,(ex)programmer, comic collector and proud Yorkshireman. I have no idea why im here or why im writing but i rather enjoy it. no great fan of punctuation;

15 thoughts on “Without Regret”

  14. I love seeing older couples, their hair dusted with age, holding hands. Young love, sweetly romantic, doesn’t count the cost because they haven’t paid it yet. Love that lasts is hard: the armor rusted, the silk frayed but yet exquisitely lovely. This poem has that hard-edged loveliness.

    Liked by 1 person

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