Re: poets corner
The soft white flakes fell to the ground
And as they did there was no sound
No time at all the streets were white
A cold and frosty winters night
The frail old lady sat in her chair
Visible only her thin grey hair
Around her body, to keep her warm
A blanket so tatterd, so thin and torn
In a heap next to the door
Her mail collected on the floor
To frail to venture from her chair
Too cold to move she just sat there
As time passed by more weak she got
The bottle she held once was hot
Her hands so cold, her lips so blue
Later it got and nobody knew
She closed her eyes and went to sleep
Her mail still sitting in a heap
The morning arrived, she wernt aware
For that night she had died in her chair
|