Thursday, September 10, 2015

She


Some men half her age will often give a secret glance
For the years have been kind to her open countenance
Compassion is the emotion she wears proud on her face
Yet she can still move and dance with a cat-like grace
She sings just like and angel; with a sonorous refrain
She cares for the world and causes absolutely no pain
And where once was a Venus rising out from the sea
Stands now magnificent matriarch dispensing hot tea
She is a ship of state with all her colours unfurled
Her mighty prow harboured in her love for the world
And though she now sails the last seas of instance
Never once was she becalmed by life's stormy dance
She is serene without peer, both an oracle and seer
Has everything to lose and absolutely nothing to fear
And when very rarely, she may act a little queer
Think how you'll be, when you've lived so long my dear