"WHERE MEMORIES COME TO REST"
Sunday, 24 May 2015
THE LOST TRIBE OF OLD WOMEN:
Where has that lost tribe of old women gone?
Lost in places where they really come from,
Back in those times where places stood still,
Beyond wheelchair, illness & sad prescribed pill.
Those of church bazaars, baked scones & teas,
Of stories to grandchildren bounced upon knees,
Of the knitting, mending & the tatting of old lace,
Those of rounded rose-cheek & cheery sweet face.
Those tribes have morphed, moved on & so changed,
Have those grannies & nannies now become deranged?
Flaunting tattoos on old skin, that was once frail & white,
Showing now their flesh, that once, they kept out of sight.
The floral old ladies, of chintz, bottled jams & baked pies,
Tribe of old women, lost, on wings of time that now flies,
Now merely stored away in memories & old sepia pages,
That tribe of old women now lost, within past´s old ages.
5/24/2015 06:11:00 pm
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