She sits beside the fireplace,
Her arms stretched out wide.
She’s a proper little lady,
With her pet dog by her side.
She’s been there since I was small,
And keep’s things neat and tidy.
Although some times with dust and soot,
She looks a little grimey.
Grandad cleans her every week,
Until she’s shiny black.
He says, she’s as old as him,
And she never answers back.
The brush is held in her left hand,
The poker in her right.
The tongs and shovel hang down the front,
All shiny clean and bright.
So this little Iron Lady,
Has kept our burning log.
And warmed the knees of many folk,
Especially our old dog.