The Singing Lady Poem by Francis Duggan

The singing lady walks the streets at morning and she's always singing as she walks along
Old songs that she remembers from her childhood or a verse or two of a long forgotten song
You always hear her sing old songs and ballads that songsters used to sing long years ago
And every time she's singing something different the words of hundreds of old songs she know.

The singing lady not one to dress stylish and 'twould seem
that she self barbers her gray hair
And she is one who do attract attention and strangers sometimes even at her stare
But she is always far too busy singing for to notice even that they look her way
Far too absorbed in song to care or worry what other people of her think or say.

The work bound people walking towards the station they meet her in the gray dawn of the day
And the singing lady cheers them with her singing and for her gift of song she don't ask pay
The years on her you might say are now telling she seems so stiff and she walks fairly slow
But she is always happy when she's singing old songs from more than sixty years ago.

She's getting on in years the singing lady and time on her 'twould seem is taking toll
But she is always happy when she's singing for song one of the main foods of the soul
She knows by heart hundreds of songs and ballads and she's
always singing as she walks along
And people know her as 'the singing lady' and you well might say she is a queen of song.