A Famous Old Lady

There once was an old lady A cautious one was she But she still drove her motor-car At the age of one-oh-three She was feared, and yes, respected On every county road 'Cause she drove down the center-line And in "white-knuckle" mode And if you were behind her You were certain to be late Because she always raced along At the speed of twenty-eight All up and own our county roads Where forty is the norm She steadfastly maintained twenty-eight Past forest, field, and farm Well, then, one day it happened I won't forget the day She drove into a wagon Piled high with bales of hay The wagon slid across the road Cut down a 'lectric pole The sparking set the hay on fire Her car did one full roll She wasn't realy injured, But quite irate, they say The wagon she rear-ended Was in her right of way! Insurance settled out of court Details were never heard The farmer simply grins and says "The figure was absurd" No longer does he transport hay Or even grow the stuff His cattle-barn sits idle nnow 'Cause he has cash enough Oh, he still plants a garden For just himself and wife Fresh veggies do taste better As they ease their way though life The lady's in an old-folks home Down by the Middle Creek I think she's doing very well Her birthday was last week Her party made the T.V. News She's reached a hundred-five She'll probably live a few more years 'Cause now she does not drive!