Forgotten Old Lady

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The forgotten old lady sits there on a bench
And watches the sea kiss the shore;
Once they would come and kiss her on the cheek
But they seldom come anymore;
Now she’s alone and for much of the time
She sits on a bench by the door.

The forgotten old lady was once young and spry,
With family and friends living near;
But they have all gone to live lives of their own,
The ones that she once held so dear;
They’re too far away to stop by every day
But she’s happy they come once a year.

The forgotten old lady stares down at her hands,
Work-worn but now lying so still;
She cared for them all in their formative years,
Happy that her days were filled;
Though sometimes the work seemed to be never-ending,
Each new day always brought a new thrill.

The forgotten old lady sits there all alone,
In the shade of the old willow trees;
Watching a sunset of orange and pink
And breathing the scent of the seas;
She is at peace with herself and the world,
Enjoying the soft evening breeze.

The forgotten old lady is silent and still,
As the day slowly draws to a close;
She smiles at the visions that run through her mind
With feelings that make her eyes glow;
Warmed by the memories that fill up her heart,
Unfolding like summer’s first rose.


Forgotten Old Lady

Now retired, after 39 years as a Librarian, Fay Herridge is a voracious reader, avid family historian, and a love of writing. She also enjoys walking, gardening, knitting, crocheting and photography; and is active in church and community events. Her poems and stories have been published in newspapers and magazines. “Satisfaction comes when others enjoy my work while inspiration comes from anywhere and everywhere.”
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