She waits for the access bus outside the door

Of the superstore just down the road;

Her shopping bag placed at her feet on the floor,

Though she doesn’t have much of a load.

 

She goes every day, mostly at the same time,

Just to give herself something to do,

So she doesn’t need much, just parsley and thyme

She will take home to flavour her stew.

 

It lets her escape from within her four walls,

And to meet with her friends on the way,

Because when she’s at home there’s no one that calls,

Though she sits by the window all day.

 

So then at the store well the café is there,

Where they chat with a nice cup of tea,

And maybe on pension day, biscuits to share,

A snack pack to be split between three.

 

Then off round the aisles she knows just where to go,

To look out for the best bargain buys;

For the things that she wants she’ll hunt to and fro

In pursuit of a small portion size.

 

Then when she gets home she will sit once again

And remotely switch on the TV,

While she stares into space to dream about when

She was younger, and wanted, and free.