Ages past, years come and go,
She was born ‘pon the hill
from a baby to a strong young woman she did grow
and to her fill she did with
her iron will. always on the move never still.
never tiring. never backracking
though once she did but continued with youthful vigour.
whatever in her path she was attacking
or displacing as she grew bigger.
but like everything else ; the bigger the weaker
For now she started slowing.
Age old advancing.
silently she’s cursing for all nw are laughing.
hey her hey day is gone, when she was at her zenith
Fighting with her nails and teeth.
woe begone, those were the days.
Now only was her ‘wedding’ train
that sometime spilled over when it begun to rain. this is the story of a river
reminiscing when she was THE DIVA