Pursed lips of darkened hue
Kajoled eyes that cajol no more
Left alone with a memories few
She stands by her lonely door
Lines of fate that seers saw
Time has moved to her face
But after a life of tooth & claw
She still shows a touch of grace
Her worn clothes are carefully worn
Her bearing gives nothing away
Awaiting her lover, in the morn
Wondering if he will stay
There is no tear in her eye
Her fear is not for all to see
And if she ever heaves a sigh
It's a statement, not a plea
Before I turn in her lane
Her face glows, her lips smile
She has heard my tapping cane
And I'll be there, in a while
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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