Seen around town, just her & her dog alone, only
as Old Annie she is known,
Little nut-brown lady wreathed in colour, wrinkles, smiles
& crinkled bone,
Sashaying red petticoats dancing around dust-scuffed,
silver-buckled shoe,
Dear Old Annie, “where do you come from, please tell
me, who are you?”
Wearing forest-green velvet jacket, that like her, has
seen far better days,
Spanish-silver comb holding moon-beamed locks in soft
& flowing waves,
Her mysterious carmine-painted smile freely given to
all who pass her by,
Sparkling sapphire eyes, the colour of magic summers
& sunny Castilian sky.
Down by the canal,
strolling by the sea-shore or feeding birds in the park,
Old Annie
appears from nowhere at dawn & disappears there after dark,
Her old dog´s shaggy head always close to her hand
with ever adoring love,
Her old straw
bag filled with treats for animals & the passing errant doves.
Old Annie never talks, she just gives gentle smiles
& friendly greeting nods,
Treats for those who cross her path & pass her way,
wherever she has trod,
Giving lollipops to little tots & with gentle hand,
written poems to one & all,
Always humming her song, “Green-sleeves”, in winter,
summer, spring & fall.
Forever wearing a sprig of summer lavender behind one
silver adorned ear,
A Druid´s ring encircling her thumb to dissipate all
of life´s unwanted fear,
Known to one & all, Old Annie is friend to bird, beast,
woman, child & man,
And yet always alone she walks, the way she likes it,
it is her worldly plan.
One day we missed Old Annie, she disappeared, one day
she didn’t come,
She didn´t come with the waning moon & she didn´t
come with dawn´s sun,
I hear her footsteps on the cobbles & on the
breeze, “Green-sleeves” her song,
But oh dear Old Annie, we miss you, please tell us
where you´ve finally gone?
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