I have aged, save my heart, because I dared not overuse it.
It’s made it thru life’s gauntlets safe from bruising or its blood spilt.
It’s only early on that it knew injury or insult.
It healed itself & hid itself before it became adult.
Within its cage of bones it has worked steady without flutters.
Only once or twice has it been tempted to peek thru shutters.
Though, it’s always darted back to task at sight of ruddy flags.
Weighted knowledge of the world outside routinely haunts & nags.
It’s said that good things come to those of diligence & patience.
Its unused vigor spent on function; not on love’s obeisance.
L.B.Stowe 