Analysis of Treasuring a well spent life

Years long ago, I laid my head on cold, dry sand,
Close to where the seashore gave way to the ocean,
Stretching out my frail form facing the star-filled skies;
The sound of waves gently breaking on pebbled shore,
The pale moonlight glistening over the restive sea,
And the balmy breeze caressing softly my face:
At age nine, I thought then, life must be so precious
To possess jewels like these.
Now, I, past forty, staring at my weathered hands:
Tasks that they've done etched the marks of demanding dues
And wearied strength, sapped by promises left undone,
Still prodding the heart to desire for one more blow;
And rising to heave this aging body, I dreamed
Of that moment, when in my youth, thought of this hour;
Far from the gently breaking waves on pebbled shores,
Treasuring a well-spent life.