In the mirror, I see a face,
Lines of wisdom, or just a race?
A battle fought with time and grace,
Yet humor finds its gentle place.
Hair turns silver, a crown of snow,
Each strand a tale, a long-ago show.
Laughter echoes through each line,
Aging, they say, is a punchline divine.
Knees creak like an old wooden floor,
But laughter keeps opening every door.
Dancing with memories, a playful jig,
Wisdom and wit, our favorite gig.
So here we stand, with timeâs embrace,
Wrinkles and all, in a joyful place.
A life well-lived, with stories to sing,
Embracing the joy that aging can bring.