There are women with hats that tap are dancing from the warm sunlight beaming down on them
There are women with dresses that will scream to be thrown away in my time period
There are flowers basking in their beauty complimenting themselves with vibrant colors
There are smiles that keep themselves tight in order to look somewhat beautiful to everyone
The aging wrinkles on her are there as they humiliatingly try to hide in her 70-year-old skin
Tree branches are swaying in the wind and delivering a warm relaxing breeze to her skin
There are purple colors of violet that dance so gracefully in every silk thread of her dress
There is a necklace around her neck strangling her almost black and blue
There is a purse that drags itself down to laughingly make more weight for the shoulder of this fragile woman
And there is one big nose similar to a grapefruit
There is a purple hat the same color that my emotions are on Mondays
The old woman looks soft enough to give out candy but strong enough to discipline you
Her sharply pointed ears are rough enough to cut you but hairy enough to tickle your cheeks red
And her eyes big enough to intimidate you but yet still small enough for you to forget them in a blink of an eye