History itself nourished,
It might’ve thus been humbled.
In her need she’s again banished
And her steered nurses, all bundled.
Seasons are overlapped famished,
All the shaft and wheat are rumpled.
Her senile stroll is beautifully enriched
And for nothing else, her maids are long rustled.
DOWNLOAD THIS POEM FROM
Collection of over 250 poems
ALSO DOWNLOAD THIS POEM AS A EBOOK NOVEL
The old woman’s maid