An old bundle struts along,
Her feet clad in worn out tyres,
She is an infamous one, this old hag,
much dear to the quaint old town.
Her toothless grin much gives away,
Her thoughts within her age old head,
She looks upon you with that distinct look,
“do not make escape, give me what you may”.
For if you don’t bring out that buck or two,
You know you’ve wronged you know,
For she’ll follow you, holler out foul words,
You’re ears surely burst, your brains turn to poop.
She ambles along beside another,
Her bandaged palms extend out.
Right under your nose she stands adamant,
Alms or food, or curses if you don’t bother.
She’s struts right up to me, one day, one time,
Her arms extend out, palms in wait,
Her little wicked smile gets to me so,
I think not twice and pull out her sweet dime.
She looks upon with it with sheer disgust.
A single coin she isn’t worth she thinks,
I pull out another ,place it on her still open palm,
One eyebrow hooked, her looks says “ stop being such a crust”.
I cannot help but laugh out at the sight,
In poverty she lives, but she knows her own rights,
So then I take out a pound note, and place it in her hand,
A sudden shine, a glow, a melt, a gleeful delight.
Her big toothless grins curves right back,
She ambles away, gazing still and the new note,
Her other hand now extended out,
The one pound tightly clenched, an addition to her stash.
Now we’re well acquainted we are,
The old lady and I, we often meet,
She awaits me every now and then,
At the bus station, or by some random car.
I get her gleeful smile back in return,
Boy I tell you it makes my day,
The lady has a lot to give you, I’d say,
Its not material, its something you earn.
It’s come to this, I await her sight,
She ambles along rather quickly,
Her penguin gait carries her fast,
She runs so quickly, with all her might.
She’s one sweet lady, this old hag,
She struts she stumbles, she walks she tumbles,
An infamous one, this dear one,
But she gives you much, too much for one to bag.