Mixed Bag
The gleam of ruby slippers, the taste of Jujy Fruit—
sensations of our youth that aging can’t refute.
Obliged to eat our green beans, jelly-roll came after.
Midnight loneliness gave way to breakfast table laughter.
Good and bad mixed up in each. The freedom of old age
compared to flexibility of youth? It’s hard to gauge.
Red wine or hot cocoa, a warm cat on your lap,
nodding off in hammocks versus a daily nap
prescribed by Mom no matter how unsleepy you might be.
Whether you sit under or climb the cherry tree.
All your life lived here in this same small town,
morphing from baptismal to your wedding gown.
Eight years old or eighty, good times follow strife.
All of them together making up a life.
Prompt words today are ruby, taste, aging, oblige and loneliness.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
What a lovely description of life from both sides now.
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I just loved your poem, Judy!
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Thanks, Irene.
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Love this, specially these lines;
Eight years old or eighty, good times follow strife. All of them together making up a life.
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I particularly like the juxtaposition of the baptismal and wedding gowns, especially since they are traditionally both white.
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Thanks, Sadje.
I was going to go from baptismal gown to shroud, but that seemed too much of a downer.
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Thanks Judy. The memories seem sweeter, as the days dwindle down.
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Love it! A gentle comparison.
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