Sally

Sally steps upon the cobblestones,
Her coat a soft, muted grey,
Each footfall echoing gentle tones,
As morning light begins to play.

She hums a tune the wind hath stole,
A lilting refrain from days of yore,
Her eyes, like pools of quiet coal,
Reflect the dreams she does adore.

Through market stalls and quiet lanes,
She sallies forth with steady grace,
Leaving behind a trail of stains
Of kindness upon each familiar place.

When dusk descends in amber hue,
Sally rests, her heart content—
A simple soul, both shy and true,
Whose presence makes the day well spent.