She is dreaming She is thinking She, la, la, la la, remembers it all Little old lady with face as grey As a day in the life that was sweeter by far With horses and coaches and crinolined ladies And gentlemen walking and never a care The holly of Christmas The apples of summer Green leaves of springtime, the gold of the fall And the bite of the frost on the first day of winter The sound of the wind in the elm trees so tall She is dreaming She is thinking She, la, la, la la, remembers it all She sits by the hearth, and the face in the fire Is lined with creases of memory years The cloth on the table is milk white and worn Where the teacups of ages left glitter brown tears Her long ago mother wore bible-black skirts And lace as white, as the snow in the sky The smell of the schoolroom and taste of the ink Shouting aloud at a chance passer-by The searching for flowers games in the meadow First touch of hands and an answering smile She watches the Sun spill a paint box of colours Sink in the west and it seems for a while She is dreaming She is thinking She, la, la, la la, remembers it all