Three Wishes

So Harry waited patiently,
a long Post Office queue.
His pension book needs stamping
and his rent was overdue.

Young girl behind the counter,
talked loud & slow, but smiled.
Old age was feeling patronised,
and treated like a child.

The road he crossed was empty,
still a helpfull arm he felt.
Tried not to seem ungreatful,
"you play the cards you're dealt".

Just once he thought it would be nice,
to go and have some fun.
To be an age that he deserved,
not wasted on the young.

To race and catch a moving bus,
remember how to dance.
To see a pretty girl and think
you might just have a chance.

That night while he was dreaming,
a bright light in the haze.
Three wishes he was granted,
to last for seven days.

He woke up in a cold sweat,
as if being hypnotised.
Then in the bathroom mirror,
a stranger with his eyes.

He ran and caught the early bus,
and to the bank he veered.
His second wish was easy
as he left the poor cashier.

The third & last a girl appeared,
and Mary was her name.
He said he had three wishes,
she said she had the same.

The days flew by so quickly,
such happiness and yet.
If only one more wish remained,
their wastefulness regret.

He thought he recognised her,
but knew he must be wrong.
He left a goodbye letter,
the week was nearly gone.

The seventh night he lay in bed,
the four cold empty walls.
"Tis better to have loved and lost,
than never loved at all".

Next day she came to see him,
with a smile that cheated years.
The face that he remembered,
was blurred behind his tears.

A greying of the temple,
a wrinkle on her brow.
She called them lines of laughter,
he laughed but wondered how.

Old woman standing next to him,
explained to him the truth.
One wish she'd saved and realised,
"there's more to life than youth".