Journey Of An Old Lady Poem by Marguerite Anderson

In a quaint cottage by the whispering trees,
Resides an old lady, time's gentle tease.
Her eyes like windows to a bygone age,
Hold tales of joy and sorrow, written on life's page.

Silver strands weave through her weathered hair,
A tapestry of memories beyond compare.
Wrinkled hands etched with the lines of time,
Tell stories of resilience, a paradigm.

In her rocking chair, she gently sways,
Recalling the sunsets of her younger days.
Eyes that once sparkled with dreams untold,
Now reflect with wisdom as the years unfold.

A garden of roses, she tends with care,
Each bloom a story, a chapter to share.
The fragrance of nostalgia fills the air,
As she walks through pathways, memories rare.

A dusty piano with keys worn and old,
Echoes melodies like stories yet to be told.
Fingers that danced in the moonlit glow,
Compose a symphony of life's ebb and flow.

Her laughter, a melody, soft and sweet,
A lullaby that time cannot defeat.
Through the wrinkles and the passage of years,
Lives a timeless spirit untouched by fears.

In the fireplace, embers softly burn,
A warmth that lessons learned can discern.
Her eyes are a constellation of stars at night,
Guiding through shadows, casting their light.

'Tis the story of an old lady, a keeper of the past,
Her spirit resilient, forever steadfast.
In the tapestry of time, her threads entwine,
An ode to her journey, a life so divine.