The Poor Old Lady

Waxing and waning
With the gibbous moon
Crying and complaining
Something was always paining

That was how he described
His aged grandmother
A woman twenty score
And ten with many years to go

She mourned her loss of teeth
And the fact that she could
No longer eat much meat
She had to live on broth

But on her 91st Birthday
He gave her very  grudgingly
A bowl of chicken curry
Which she ate in a great hurry

She feared he'd take it back
If she so much as delayed
In attacking the spicy dish
And that was not her wish

That night she slept peacefully
After a dinner to remember
To celebrate her ninety-first
She did not wake up it was her last