A gray old woman sits all alone Unloved, uncherished and unknown. Sitting beside her broken door. Dreaming of days past long ago, When children played about her knee Filling the air with childish glee, Tended by her with loving care. Knowing the blessing of a Mother’s prayer. But now they have gone, each to his life A girl to her husband, a boy to his wife, Forgetful are they of her who sits here Silently wiping a tricking tear, For striving for things in a life so brief Blind their poor eyes to a dear Mother’s grief. But does she upbraid them in word or in mind. Nor does their neglect to her seem unkind. She’ll forgive and forget all unkindness they’ve shown This poor old mother who sits alone. RUBY LATIMER EDWARDS Silvie