Middle Age

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I’m not consigned
to old age, yet,
although my youth
has lost the bet.

I still have passion,
heart, and drive,
and in my inner soul
I thrive

Although I like
a rocking chair
as much as anyone,
beware

that’s not my forte,
not my place:
I’m not done
with this long race.

Don’t unsee me,
Invisible.
Don’t mark me off
predictable.

You don’t know me,
from what I’m made;
where I am opal,
you see jade.

I still have spark,
I still have fight,
I’m still willful,
with all my might.

and just because
I look an age,
don’t use it as
unfair presage.

I dream, I dance,
I fly, inside.
In my heart,
I’m still a bride.

You think you know,
Like age tips fate;
Like golden youth’s
the only trait

But I know me,
and I am strong
and though I’m not young,
I’ll live long

and this is nothing;
just the gate
to better things,
if I just wait

You think you’re young,
well, that’s just great –
your soul’s just twelve;
well, mine’s just eight.

The outside shell
don’t tell a thing,
it doesn’t say
what life will bring,

It doesn’t say
how sweet the soul
it doesn’t show
the endgame goal

All it does
is mark the years
the smile lines
the trace of tears

and shows I’ve lived
from here to there,
and shows I’ve learned
just how to care

but my essence
still remains
despite my losses
or my gains

unchanged inside me
my deep core
which will remain
forever more

and that was young
‘twill never age
no matter wrinkles,
what their gauge

for what’s inside me’s
like a bird
gentle, light,
a breath of Word

and though I am
no longer young,
my journey, here,
is far from done.

~Amarine Rose Ravenwood

Delicate Strength

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In her very breath, she’s womanly:
Soft and calm; refined and elegant.
But beneath the soft, a strength of steel;
Intelligent, kind, clever, and relevant.

Indeed, her words may pierce or caress;
A sharp-edged tongue with a velvet underside;
It’s not a deceit, but a complexity;
A duality of form, undefined.

And while she nurtures, she is fierce;
Ready to defend; equally to solace.
While she is loved, held most dear,
She’s not liked by all, and hardly flawless.

The depth of her life contradicted by beauty;
The surface denying what lies underneath;
The softness of voice, that sounds so gentle
Deceiving in every vocal upbreathe.

For under the soft exterior shell,
lies the heart of a lioness, strong and resilient.
As what is all soft cannot fully exist,
The harshness of life creates a balance that’s brilliant.

When you go to judge by a beautiful face,
A beauty that’s elegant; decorated with grace,
Remember that softness belies a great strength,
A gentle exterior with an iron base.

 
© Amarine Rose Ravenwood, 2018

Delicate Strength on Graceful Grit

Amarine Rose Ravenwood is the pen name of Lorraine Hall, for her preteen, teen, and young adult fantasy fiction writing as well as for some of her poetry. This poem was written by the same person, only under her real name. The poem is hosted on a group publication through the University of Colorado Denver called Graceful Grit. If you enjoy feminine poetry, you might enjoy this poem:

“Delicate Strength” poem on Graceful Grit

Lorraine is a member of the group publication and a student at UC Denver, although she is due to graduate this coming December. In addition to this poem, there are articles on Graceful Grit by Lorraine, as well as articles by the other members of the publication group.