elderly and Helen Mirren
It is hard work to be old; many people prey on us, the elderly
My wife is better at telling people to fob off than I am
When people tell me a sob story, I tend to believe
What they, why else will they tell
My wife and I are very different; she likes to speak to
people in a cafe or a waiting room at the doctor's, yes, we
Do see many doctors, with age comes the infirmary
I sit there and try not to look at the clock
She comes from an upper-class family without money
I am from a modest background with a tendency not to spend
money, but safe for a day, it might rain, and we will be
caught in the downpour without an umbrella
Yes, in public, we hold hands, we get the condescending
glances, oh, how sweet they are
I feel annoyed like Helen Mirren, wishing that people would
off and leave us in peace
Aware
I do not stand still much
Mostly I wait in silence
Known gardener
Roses adorn my cape
Wavy chips and a cake
Timid chirps
Only quiet trust
She screams in silence
Her voice is still
Major energy report
Holy Holy Holy
Echoes of stone
Unaware of her anger
We walk toward the edge
Waves smash into our nets
Our catch is rare
It screams in silence
She sailed in beauty late at night,
Over the seas, together, ready for a flight.
He kissed her hard, oh luscious lips.
She knew not she had launched a thousand ships.
Helen’s blind date had told her about his watermelon car.
She thought he was kidding, but he had gone too far.
He arrived to pick her up and she laughed until she cried.
Blind date ended up leaving her there with her cousin Cyde.
He was a nutbucket, Clyde told her. Blind dates are bad.
The next guy she was set up with was a suggestion from her dad.
He arrived wearing a plate of spaghetti on his head.
Helen said, I think I had better meet people in person instead.
You began to write the history of your life
With a kind of fear;
I know not why you are so great;
O, Helen, to me, you are so dear.
You're talented, you're esteemed;
How enchanting your fantasy is!
Your voice is always buzzing in my heart,
Just like the honey-seeker bees.
You are fantastic, you are the greatest;
I look upon you as my buddy;
You're as broad-minded as Mount Everest;
You're cleaning my spirit which was muddy.
Whenever I feel frustrated,
Your story stimulates me;
O, pal, I really love you heartily;
In my melancholy moments, you provide me with glee.
You foment me with new vigour,
When my life is a smilax;
You counsel me to practise with great rigour;
You help me reach the climax.
Few can boast of the love of a giant bumble these days
Helen feels honored for her bee adores her in all ways
Others cower in horror, when they see her bee’s stinger.
She is not fearful, for her pet is a doosie, a ding-a-linger.
He has her back, others leave her alone, never bother her at all.
Even giants and elephants do not come near, her enemies fall.
Running away practically before they do something mean to her.
Her giant bumble bee is her best friend, and an incredible cure.
When Helen Keller was a child,
both deaf and blind, she acted wild
until her heart was helped to melt.
Seen or not, beauty must be felt.
Sweet sights and sounds she knew not of.
She barely comprehended love.
In youth, a bad hand she’d been dealt.
Seen or not, beauty must be felt.
A favored doll, dear Helen clutched,
yet things were nameless that she touched.
Words on her hand a teacher spelt.
Seen or not, beauty must be felt.
One day the young girl’s whole world turned.
Her heart perceived the words she’d learned.
With joy thereafter Helen dwelt.
Seen or not, beauty must be felt.
June 19, 2023
Helen Marie was a petulant clown
Pettish, prickly, persnickety all around
She got upset at every perceived double cross
She was especially upset with her brother Ross
She is cantankerous and crotchety her mother said.
Because of her curmudgeonly ways, she needs to go to bed.
But Helen did not agree, and was ready to flare up
Her abnormally loud temper scared her dad and pup.
How can we deal with this? He asked her mother.
Let me have at it, she told Dad and Ross, the brother.
She had grown up with six sisters, so this was not new.
As the oldest of seven females, she knew what to do.
She told Helen all the great things she had going for her.
She gave her optimism, and a hope that was pure.
She assured her things would be better soon.
Then she tucked in Helen by the light of the moon.
For Helen Sudell
In weeks and months, the years do burn.
As the lessons of our God we learn.
Another blink, ten pages turn...
From light we come, to light return.
And in one summer, decades amass,
As one autumn chilled night does last.
Our spring was light, and so damned fast,
Until our winter night did pass.
So on this earth, we wait the time,
Living for good reason or rhyme,
But true the Light of God shall shine,
On our soul eternal, on Love divine.
It's always hard to say goodbye,
To laughter untouched by time's cruel eye.
For spreading love, God does reply:
For all you've done, you'll never die.
Joyful lively yellow daisies were hard at play
Not minding the wind on this spring-like Thursday
Mount Saint Helen in the distance, drab and gray
Watched enviously as the daisies danced so gay
You, beautiful one,
Aware of mind's inner space,
But travelling, thrilling to movement.
Tiny jokes and masked meanings
The place you played.
You undid models
Like a child making games,
The barrier behind unvisited.
Hold up your arms
And dance!
Death's not erased the past and
Is not the end of music.
Love hearts and scabby knees.
Dead flies and stinging bees.
Dirty nails and sweaty lips.
Fishnets with ragged slips.
Eyeholes in a hessian sack.
Pimples on a tattooed back.
Toys that she just can’t unpack.
Helen.
Secret Helen.
Lies from a mother’s heart.
Secrets that fell apart.
Beauty too divine to see.
As purple as a Judas Tree.
Singing from her cradle jail.
A baby crying weak and frail.
Giggle, breathe, inhale, exhale.
Helen
Splintered Helen.
An infantile brutalist.
A wide-awake somnambulist.
Mamma’s bile and Daddy’s fist.
A kiss, a slap a broken wrist.
She hides within a dark recess.
She dances with her own distress.
A monster wearing fancy dress.
Helen
Sacred Helen.
Fantasies of guilt and sin.
Concealed beneath a slab of skin.
Loathe the self and stunt the flesh.
Her impotence and spite enmesh.
To love the girl, she veils the face.
To save the world from its disgrace.
Before she leaves without a trace.
Helen
Shiny Helen.
We have had nineteen dogs. Sophie Helen, our black cocker spaniel,
has been with us for eleven years; not our record, but close.
Today she cannot lift her back end. Is it her weight? Her age?
Are her legs too weak?
Has she had a stroke? I carry her all around inside and outside.
We discuss options.
Wonder if she needs to be put down.
I leave her outside in the grass.
An unfamiliar vehicle enters the driveway.
Sophie Helen crosses the twenty foot driveway,
bounds onto the porch, and races through the slider to warn us of the intruders. We are amazed and consternated.
She is back in her sitting state, once again unable to walk.
Was she given extra streaks of adrenaline
when she thought we were in danger?
It is a puzzle
Let everyone be aware
of this prominent truth :
There is no eternal death,
no one dies forever!
If the body deteriorates,
the flesh of the spirit
it doesn't even putrefy in ground dust,
neither with time!
Though from this world she decided it was time to retire,
Her words will continue to inspire,
Even where there is no church spire.
And around the world others will never tire,
Of words of wisdom, from this Devonshire,
As far away in NZ did she inspire.
She left us at the top of her game,
Passing without shame,
And leaving no words of blame.
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