The Decline of a Man
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I met this man, a father, grandfather, a man of substance
A wealth of life, success from nothing, earned respect
No easy path yet won, built, from ruins to riches you might say
Not alone, side by side with a mother, grandmother, a woman of substance
This couple strived, created and achieved much, such a history
She is in mind so strong, directing, dominant in her life, a force
It can be seen even now in her frailty, she has much to be proud of, much to celebrate
So her loss comes not easy, I speak of her man, this clever man
As he begins to lose parts of his life, recent things, words, thoughts, discourse
Unremembered, oft repeated to those around him, tenfold sometimes
Yet to engage his history gone past, unlocks his memories and his eyes light
Almost a child emerges as he recalls, some fantasy mixed in, all with animation
Happiness surfaces, each tale delivered comes to life regardless of its reality
The joy is to listen, to respond, to support, to respect, it is an education
But mostly it is an honour to be part of this dance, even if short lived
And for the rest? Well slowly he loses piece by piece his recent life
Yet he remains happy, somehow younger in mind, and those around him
Give him safety, care, love, kindness, the irritations accepted, understood, tolerated
To see him find pleasure in simple things provides balance for the upset
I am glad I met this man
Copyright © Graham Bentley | Year Posted 2022
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