Once all satin and lace in the right places, boldness and bravery you possessed, your honor others did not protect. Shunned by piety, sought by sinners, the road to hell paved by the winners. Below the towering trees, you sleep snug and tight, to have a house of brick and stone you had no right. Now body plump, hair gray, wrinkled dress, time has left the lady of the streets frayed. Children sneak and try to spy, your mind gone before your body to the great by-and-by. Now an old lady you toss your head, remember your beauty, your wicked deeds, speed of time is not on your side and you will grow older and older before you reach the great by-and-by. In you, ourselves we see, overlooking our own blundering notions, jealous of your freedom to do as you wish with such devotion. Crazy old lady your life in words cannot be described, and least we forget…we will all be judged together in the great by-and-by.
©2014.annjohnsonmurphree
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ann johnson-murphree 
A fabulou slice of prose poetry – you really brought her to life!
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Thank you Chris. Ann
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