It’s the very last day of July.
This morning’s funeral made me cry.
The lovely lady whom we mourn
Was lively and Italian born.
Her name was Olga; known by all
A personality 10 feet tall,
She ran the local "one-stop" store
Where noisy school kids used to call.
A kindly word, a friendly smile
Loved by both the rank and file
A hard life, of that there’s no doubt
But never would she rant and shout
And complain as many would have done
Running a business ain’t all fun.
The neighbours on both sides are sad
The house, now silent, always had
An owner blessed with joie de vivre
An anecdote hid up her sleeve.
Her customers kept her abreast
Of local matters; she knew best
What to say and what to keep
Hidden in her breast, asleep.
A helping hand she always gave.
Her kindness lives beyond the grave.
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
Written in 2006
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