Benicia Love Poem: 100 Years Old

100 Years Old by Virginia Ward                                   

A little, thin lady, white haired, wrinkled.

A face crisscrossed by years of emotions. 

Fingers gnarled, knuckles swollen, pickled,

Blue eyes, clouded now, unseeing.

Hearing gone aided by a hearing aid

Bedridden, needing help to sit in a chair

Senses gone, she was left with touch.

Bleak days, life without purpose

One hundredth year soon to be 

Not one to celebrate according to her

Visits from a loving daughter

Visits from a special soul

He knew her room, the big shaggy grey dog.

He put his big head through the railings

Maneuvering her hand over his face

She would turn in his direction as

She felt his warm fur under her hand

Wrinkled face would suddenly smile, greatest feeling of joy!

“Scotty,” she would whisper, “Scotty!”

She celebrated her 100^th  year

Scotty, as favored guest, was there to share.

A later visit, an empty bed. He understood, dropped his tail.

Mutual love shared, forever remembered.