Patricia

Never stops for gain, every task in Lent, doesn't feel the strain, or get sore, putting up old defences, scratched namings at the door, no matter what it takes, she’s always present, to the eternal waste, fools might sing for applause, clap hands like the rest, but ignore the real score, no need to remonstrate, just brings out our best, but when the night breaks, her heart soars, scatters us then, always asks for more, her investment spent.