Bones ache with every move of her body
Cane in hand, she can no longer hurry
Once vibrantly active, dancing up a storm
Gently rocking her body is now the norm
Coming to terms with her mortality
Recalling summer holidays in her company
Tiny feet trying to keep up the pace
Of her brisk, long strides, t’was like running a race
Dressed to impress with her big church hats
Pointy high heels never hindered her prance
A thunderous voice, quite big for her frame
Singing and clapping and praising his name
Her frame, it never betrayed her strength
And back-breaking labour left her unbent
From before dusk to darkness, tilling the field
Then going to market, her family to feed
Time has beaten her within an inch of her life
From betrayal and misfortune, to malice and strife
She doesn’t look like what she’s been through
She was built for it, that much is true
Beneficent to her children and anyone in need
In the greatness of many, she has planted seed
Building houses she knows she will never inhabit
With no promise of reward, her last, she will give it
She’s still the most fashionable woman I know
Fascinator on head, high heels had to go
Looking regal as ever, hobbling about
A sight for sore eyes, without a doubt
Voice shaking yet still booms like thunder
Her great-grandchildren keep her feeling younger
Cherishing every moment we get to see
Mommy, grandma, ageless, she’ll always be
Written by L.M. McBean
LariMac ©️ 2023
