Always making money, anyway she can.
Money, she says, makes the world go round.
She walks to market by herself.
For soups, she picks the freshest fish.
Her companion: a walking cane.
Pickpockets get out of her way.
She continues to defy nature at 83.
Never to be stopped by frailty.
Idleness, indolence, her enemies,
So she’s sure to get on her feet
Until she’s a hundred and thirty.
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