As wrinkles dance across my face,
And silver threads weave through my hair,
I find in every little trace,
A story only age can share.

The glasses perched upon my nose,
A magnifying glass for words,
Yet every page of life still grows,
With laughter sung like chirping birds.

Forgetful moments, keys misplaced,
Searching rooms with puzzled grin,
Yet in each misstep warmly traced,
A gentle joy blooms deep within.

For age brings wisdom wrapped in jest,
A playful wink from time’s own hand,
In every line, a life well-blessed,
In every laugh, a love withstands.