by Ogden Nash
Unwillingly Miranda wakes,
Feels the sun with terror,
One unwilling step she takes,
Shuddering to the mirror.
Miranda in Miranda's sight
Is old and gray and dirty;
Twenty-nine she was last night;
This morning she is thirty.
Shining like the morning star,
Like the twilight shining,
Haunted by a calendar,
Miranda is a-pining.
Silly girl, silver girl,
Draw the mirror toward you;
Time who makes the years to whirl
Adorned as he adorned you.
Time is timelessness for you;
Calendars for the human;
What's a year, or thirty, to
Loveliness made woman?
Oh, Night will not see thirty again,
Yet soft her wing, Miranda;
Pick up your glass and tell me, then--
How old is Spring, Miranda?
****Editor's Note: You know, Andy was just calling me 'loveliness made woman' the other day. This poem is to officially wrap up my birthday week Turning 31 wasn't nearly this traumatic, but I could relate and laugh over this one...especially the first two stanzas. Have a great weekend all!
I really love this poem. Funny thing is, I was that afraid of turning thirty. As thirty came and went, and the thirties stayed even longer, I am really loving these years. I am more comfortable in my skin than I ever thought possible. I love my thirties, and I love this poem. Have a wonderful weekend, as you say goodbye to your birthday week!
ReplyDeleteI would agree with Christine.....the thirties are much better than the twenties. I am 34, and I feel, like Christine, I am more comfortable in my skin and in my body. And I like the fact that people still think I am in my twenties!! That is cool!!! :>) Happy Birthday Week!! :>)
ReplyDeleteI don't remember 30 being a big deal. That still seemed young. Now 40...it still makes me cringe! :)
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