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Click hereThese aren’t wrinkles around my eyes.
Each is just a lasting imprint of a once broad smile.
The one on the left at the top was my birthday.
In the middle the joy for a true friend.
At the bottom was the birth of a dear child.
On the right are times of love -all of them
And the big one is the best of love,
That brings a pain,
And a smile.
And often gets wetted by that same memory.
So, give me wrinkles by the dozen.
Let my face bear the happiness of a life well lived.
Not a bad way to acquire wrinkles by giving them special names for the individual joys of your life.
"If wrinkles must be written on your brow, let them not be written upon the heart, the spirit should not grow old."
This quote from James Garfield seems part of an appropriate comment for this ever so lovely optimistic rendering.
I liked the concept of your poem, a gem of a poem <grin... (~_~)