Poetic Verses

She

Like a hermit shall she dwell,
with only memory,
of scolding and loving little ones
now part of her history

Then she was lush,
like fields in spring,
she chokes back tears
her eyes now bring

Revere she thinks
she has not known
Not remembering
all the love shown

Futile seems
her stuffy life
music of happiness
now noise of strife

Life's broken machine
now feeling unwell
Soon covered by earth
in a box-like cell

9/02