to M

Beauty like the plastering art of time
Can conjure up small poetry and rhyme
But your sweet charactery and smile
Shall wither every wrinkle, tear or line
And make that tender joy which is your life
Shine out beyond the waywardness of flesh.
It will stand fast despite all fear or strife
And force us all to see ourselves afresh.
So now's the time to laugh in fortune's face
And seize the winged chariot's leather reins
And spur the horses to a further race
While blood still burns within our veins.
Do not stand idly by or cry vain tears
We'll bid sweet welcome to the remaining years.