Posted in Poetry

The Tassel

Ten years from now we’ll look back on this day
And dim will be our memories of pain
Or glories that we’ve conquered in the fray
Forgetting toils that brought us to this gain
The wings of angels sweep these years away
And burned by time our eyes will not retain
The hands that held us up when we were young
And to that innocence we have not clung

© Jilly's 5/25/2017 All Rights Reserved
Dedicated to the class of 2017

We are writing Ottava Rima over at dVerse - join us!

The opening line was heard as I walked across
   campus today.