The Old Lady Poem by Madhabi Banerjee

In a sweet plaza, corner of the town She dwells
Mother of seven children, engaged her days
By doing household works and looking after her children
There was no opportunity to care herself.
No one can stand before her personality.
Full ninety years she lived
A running house-wife merry
Still her cheek is rosy as a ripe cherry.
But the change bereft
Of health, strength, friend and kindred
In liveried loneliness the old lady to world left
Trembled her hands can’t do work
Reeled her legs, ankles swell can’t walk.
‘Few days of life has she in store’,
She used to tell now to someone.
No, it was not a exceptional story
This story would be find in everywhere.
The precious gem, whom she seemed, bereft her
The fine morning I met her
I extend my helping hand
Tears into her eyes brought
Thanks, praises seemed to run fast from her heart
I have heard what is unkind, and kind deed
But gratitude of man has often mourn me.