She was a bent old woman, but in her mind could see
The blithe young girl she used to be.
He life sped by, oh much too fast,
But the girl had no thought to make it last.

Death's cold hand was at her door,
And she longed to be a girl once more.
To escape death's clutches, she had no desire
Just to grab each chance and set the world on fire.

There were so many things the woman might have done,
If that silly young girl hadn't just sought fun.
The dry wrinkled lips cracked into a smile;
She loved being a girl, if it was but a while.

She picked up some knitting, from her lips came a sigh,
To the girl, to the woman, to the world it's goodbye.
Death didn't grab her; it was more an embrace,
As she died with her memories and a smile on her face.

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