Beautiful

Her face was weathered,
Wrinkled, altogether
older now.
Facials and lotions,
Expensive beauty potions—
She had turned them in,
For in the end
When life was done,
She wanted her heart
To be the most beautiful part
Of her.
Sure, she missed that second glance—
That look of romance
from the men—
As in her younger days,
When beauty’s ways
Were upon her.
But now people stared long and hard…
At her heart,
Radiant on her face.
Plastic beauties who saw her walk by,
Envied her, the life in her eyes,
Which sparkled, undaunted by aging and time;
And almost mesmerized,
They asked her
The reason for her smile.
And she would—smile,
And then tell them…
(Oh, she told them) of the One
Who made her beautiful.

"Always be prepared to give an answer for the hope that lies within you..." (But are we giving them a reason to ask??)