Silver Strands
She sits quietly, staring at the fire
Lost in a world of reflection
Lines upon her face
Softened by the caress of time
Shadows of her years have lengthened
Her memories play upon the flames
A husband, taken, still held dearly
Children, raised, taught to fly
Silver strands, speak of many seasons
Shining softly in the fires glow
A crown bestowed upon this weary lady
Who rests now, a rocker for her throne
Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2011
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