.

At first encounter,

she slapped

my backside

and declared,

“I don’t recognise

that bottom!”

.

Then she skipped away

on one of her missions

to share a cuppa

and a slice of humanity

with a lonely soul.

.

At her behest,

I carried bags

of food and toys

to a household of children

in a life of despair.

.

When summer came,

I refurbished her garden bench

which led to a tearful promise

to use it for evening chats

with her husband’s spirit.

.

In September,

I found her with a wilted rose,

weeping for the babies

of Afghanistan,

of Somalia,

of Ukraine,

of Gaza.

.

And in December,

surrounded by tinsel

and Christmas memories,

a pernicious cancer

stole her from the world.