Don't Stop the Clock

If we must age,
And age we must,
Let it be like the dandelion head:
Frail and grey,
Going to seed,
May a gentle wind blow us to bed.

poem © Celia Warren 2011

Took this photo of the grass verge beside the road through our village. I was enjoying my first 10-minute walk since my op. Gorgeous, mild, sunny day, with a fantastically blue sky and sea. Spring is here.