The Telephone Never Rings

She sits alone by the window Lost in her thoughts as the rain falls, Life is passing her by so slow, Gone are the days of summer balls. Her crumpled dress is like her life, Now no music, no happiness. She was once a good loving wife And yet, there is no bitterness. Watching life slowly drifting by, She has watched the trees all year And the flowers that grow then die, Thoughts of when days were bright and clear. She often looks at her telephone Little comfort it never brings, In silence, she is all alone As the telephone never rings. Life is passing by, that she knows. She now watches her own decline Thrown along like the wind that blows And no-one will be there to pine.