The Puzzle Of Not Being What I Want To Be

Given a choice I would be taller, willowy, and scented like honey.  I would have lips that had just kissed Cupid.  My eyes would glimmer like twin pools of a summer sky.  My hair would be sunshine.  My eyebrows would be arched like the wings of a bird in flight.  I would have dimpled hands and feet without blemish.  My body would gleam with young health like a water nymph at play.


To not be what I want to be is puzzling.  It seems mean.  And now I am old, and what charms I might have had, have escaped me, which is even meaner.

 Caption:  Old Me And My Cane Puzzle

by Annmarie Throckmorton 2018


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