"Oh arr", she said, in her crackly old voice,
"I'll tek 'im off yer 'ands if yer anguished,
I'll 'ave 'im mended in no time at all."
I gently gave her the injured creature;
She trotted happily and busily
Off to her cottage by the canals edge.
She was eighty two, with the kindest soul
And a touch that cured the almost dying.
Each living thing her family, her kin;
She called it, "me 'obby", a thing enjoyed,
A thing to fill each hour of lonely days.
Not a gift, or a calling from above,
She saw nothing saintly in what she did;
"It keeps mi mind off me sel", she would say,
"Stops mi thinkin' about me screws mi duck".
See then .... goodness, in these strange selfish times;
An old lady going about her day
With a curious, wonderful 'obby!