Carol Hamilton
Not Picture Perfect
I loved the way jigsaw puzzles fit,
Though I don’t do them anymore.
Yet the pictures I worked on were exquisite.
Sun glinting on water or a scene all moonlit,
Or a lady with parasol, a young man at the oar,
A picture so perfect when all pieces fit.
One box showed angels with wings alit.
I chose it from many at the store,
That puzzle I worked on was exquisite.
When young I worked puzzles, sewed and knit,
But in time eyes and back were not as before.
Though I still loved how sometimes all pieces fit.
There are many acts age will not still permit,
Skills, try as I might, I cannot restore.
Though many say just youth can be exquisite,
Reality is something I cannot outwit,
So I no longer ask for more and more.
How lovely if all life’s pieces fit!
Though even so would I judge this life exquisite?