Timeless (Maps)

Age had crept up on her
Now the long wisdom of time hung gracefully,
french plaited over her shoulder
I could feel each dancing step of her silvery pulse
Each wrinkled line a story,
A historical treasure map,
embedded in her silken skin rich in black gold
She carried the ambrosial scent of home
When she spoke,
her knowledge would flow in tones mellifluous
Without her I would have no relevance
So I never call a her old,
Preferring instead to refer to her as timeless,
For she is classic

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