I am jealous of the young
who are carefree and never stung
by the pains and cares the world ever sprung.
I am jealous of the rumbustios laughter
that tears from the heart of my daughter
when by the mirth of life she is stirred.
I am jealous of the indulgence
My son takes amidst insurgence.
His ability to remain effervescent
During moments both ascent and descent.
I am jealous of the youth carefree
And to remain so- as decree.
The thrumming vibrance
Its vigour and its elegance.
Mine came and went
How carelessly I spent.
When my heart clamoured
For the clover, alas!
Dealt are spades.
Youth went anon!
I am not I
My flashing youth I descry.
Aging body mine may cry
But youthful spirit is here never to die.
Yet I am jealous
For not having the young body
and the wise mind in it to embody.
So yearning, I am zealous
however too garrulous!