self-deception gets
stronger, as i get older -
not any better.

In the dawning of my years, I've found
A love that makes my heart abound
With joy and laughter, sweet and true
I'm happy to age with you

As time marches on, we grow old
But our love only grows bold
Through wrinkles and graying hair, we'll see
The beauty in our love's history

We'll reminisce on days gone by
And cherish every tear and sigh
For growing older has its charms
In each other's arms

I'm happy to be in love with you
To face the years, both old and new
Hand in hand, we'll walk this stage
And grow older, but never age

So let the years come rolling in
We'll face them with a sweet, contented grin
For in each other, we find our youth
And the eternal truth

That love is timeless, ageless, free-
And in your arms is where I'll be
So, let the days turn into years
I'll grow older with you, my dear.

It took an abstract realization,
something that I had never noticed ever before.

Where there was a semblance of monotony
there existed the essence of change
the actuality of reality
even to the smallest degree, such as the subtlety of how fast, or slow, my locks grew,
in centimeters.

Oh!
The informative nature of such a nuance amplified my rage!

Teenage angst was somehow removed with its perpetual sway
it crawled slowly constantly prompting our celestial commander to descend
solar illumination abated
nocturne shielded its rhythmic gait in a way
the presence of this frame cordoned off at 15 years
that made its movement seem a hasty thing
in its grip, initially, I was a child
now, I am a man
I lavishly lament the awkward promptness of anything I have gained.

All in due…

Was I due to manage it?
Over moons, many a pressured slumber
I rest still
my education
my locks that grew
subtle that pace
wisdom I have gained
that familiar melody of change
the alpha that arose
until omega was due to settle the earth
hands, arms, that consistently illustrate the change – “tick, tick, tick”
oh, that familiar tune it plays.

Being older,
my eyes can detect its forceful ways
unsubtle
however, I can manage it
I force it to behave.
Although, it still has me bound tightly within its clutch forever
yet, still,
I have synchronized our pace
the older I become it grips my hand tighter
together we are trekking my lifeline
now, I comprehend it.

Now I have time.

Jonah Singleton 2024

In the almirah corner, it lay,
Day after day, untouched, unseen grey.
Dun and dusted, its shimmer gone,
Once proud, now forlorn.

It first adorned a joyous frame,
The groom's pride, a life to claim.
A new suit for a bride so fair,
Their union sealed, a love to wear.

From meetings to galas, it bore the strain,
Day in and out, through sunshine and rain.
Before mirrors, it struck a pose,
Before cameras, it proudly rose.

Time marched on, as time will do,
The suit's threads faded, its purpose too.
The owner retired, and with a sigh,
The suit found its place where old things lie.

Beside medicines and x-ray scans,
It watched the world through aging hands.
But love rekindled a gentle spark,
The suit was worn, its journey embarked.

No goals to chase, no grand parade,
Just a quiet walk in the evening shade.
With a smile that spoke of days well-spent,
The suit revived in an instant of love.

For the owner well knew, as wisdom grew,
The suit was something more than just threads and dye.
It held the story, the love, the pride,
A lifelong friend with him through the times that glide.

Just glimpses of what it used to be
Second-hand memories,
faded reflections
of the golden years.
It’s a different tomorrow.
I feel scammed and hollow.
This is not what was promised.
I am a grownup now—
Translation of
     Years hoarding sorrow—

My birthday song
was sung by the birds this morn,
they greeted me
with kisses from Heaven.
Their gleeful singalong
bounced me out of bed headlong,
a spring in my step,
despite being age-strong,
I look forward
to celebrations all day long.
Grateful to be alive,
to witness this very day!

one year on.