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Maggie and Porter

Come meet two of my former patients; A nursing home room they did share Maggie was blind; Porter became her eyes Finding, picking up, helping her He was kind. Her mind had slipped - or had it? "Porter, I lost my comb," said to mate Frail as he was, under the bed he went Crawling for Maggie - deliberate Day in and day out he would meet her needs; She contrived to keep him near her hand, Porter this and Porter that - it did seem Though they each understood the commands The nurses would come to help as needed. Then, on that moring when a stillness Penetrated the room reverently Quietly sitting slumped by her bed No answer; no movement; just sitting there; Porter dressed for his daily tasks, He had fallen asleep when breathing ceased He had given all that was asked "Porter, Porter, help me," was softly heard "Porter, Porter, please answer me, Porter, Porter, where are you?" asked again. "Porter's gone. He loved you, Maggie."

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 2/6/2013 12:40:00 PM
Thank you. "Maggie and Porter" is true.
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Date: 2/6/2013 12:38:00 PM
Beautiful story... more so if it was true...
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Date: 10/11/2012 8:03:00 PM
A well-told account of bonds that form between care-takers and patients and between the patients themselves. Congratulations on being featured this week.
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Date: 10/10/2012 6:12:00 AM
Good morning and congratulations on your featured poem this week E.Pearl. Love, Carol
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