The Seasons are catching up on her and time has left her grey and lame
Yet lots of life left in the body of the one who walks with the aid of a frame
The reaper on her may be waiting but she still looks lucid and bright
And to father time she won't surrender without putting up a good fight.
The wheels on her frame ever squeaking as she shuffles on down the street
And she smiles and says hello to friends and to strangers and everyone that she does meet
A woman who loves life and people she will battle on till her end
Each new day to her is a blessing and each new day she makes a new friend.
Her face is familiar to many her friends in their numbers have grown
One of the town's elder citizens to all of the locals she is known
Her partner is in the town cemetery with the local departed he lay
But she is in no hurry for to join him though she will be buried with him one day.
She is at least in her early eighties and time on her is taking toll
And ageing though we may not like it is something that's beyond our control
She walks with the aid of a walking frame but she has no wish for to die
The reaper for her obliged to wait for life is a thing she enjoy.
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