Her body was that of a wizened crone,
her enfeebled mind was that of a child.
Playfully, she skipped and jumped rope, and shone,
but only in her confused dreams of wild.
Her drear some days softened by her tone,
she mumbled of lost love, and her eyes smiled.
Time and age had drained her of consciousness,
stealing the current surroundings from her
and replacing them with the obtuseness
known only by those who soon become her.
She sits and thinks with laboriousness
until she succumbs and the drugs numb her.
Once I was young,
now I'm an oldie;
Once I was shiny,
now I'm all moldy.
Suppose all around you suddenly vanished,
And you realized you were standing alone
In the twilight of your years feeling banished
Like a pilot-less, rudder-less, helpless drone.
You knew your life was mystifyingly dreamed
With many questions and answers few,
You know everything was not as it seemed
And you scarcely know exactly what to do.
The lot of many elderly in our nursing homes
Removed from the familiar, in a strange place
Victims of memory loss and various syndromes
Suddenly feeling like they are in outer space.
Many spend their last days lonely and sad
Feeling unwanted and deserted, I am told,
And some of these places are horribly bad
It makes me fight to keep from getting old!
Appeared in "It's Still Poetry"
Poetry Soup Anthology - 2021
Life isn't as hard as it seems
You just need to keep walking to its extremes,
Time will show you the way
People will help you in finding the right doorway,
My words may be getting lost
But that doesn't mean I don't have any scope,
I'm just getting tired
Losing that beautiful desire
Which used to glow like a sapphire,
I wonder if this is the end..
I'm not left with time to spend,
I'm willing to survive
Reach out to that blue Sky
Will God let me try?
Or I will just loose that will to smile.
Life isn't as hard as it seems
You just need to keep walking to its extremes,
Time will show you the way
People will help you in finding the right doorway,
My words may be getting lost
But that doesn't mean I don't have any scope,
I'm just getting tired
Losing that beautiful desire
Which used to glow like a sapphire,
I wonder if this is the end..
I'm not left with time to spend,
I'm willing to survive
Reach out to that blue Sky
Will God let me try?
Or I will just loose that will to smile
Gripping the meteor,
both hands for dear life
Expelling, compelling,
less heat and more light
Afraid to let go,
knowing what it will mean
My pen to go dry
—my heart not to bleed
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
Bound in his wheel chair
He’s my special child so dear
Blissfully maximizing
His freedom with joy
Against disability
To cheer others by God’s mirth.
Midst infirmity
He optimizes Christ’s strength
As he gives out Gospel tracts
Gladly gesturing
“The Saviour loves you so much”
Triumphing with his thumbs-up!
*Psalm 92:4 For thou, LORD, hast made me glad through thy work: I will triumph in the works of thy hands.
May 18, 2019
1st place, "ALL YOURS (Jun 15)" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 6/15/2021.
A shrivelled presence.
A mere shadow.
Curled tightly in
foetal submission
unconscious tae owr
subconscious fears.
Eyes dart back
an fourth amongst
the participants in
this ritual of ruination.
Never lingering though
fir fear of also
being snared in
the abyss's gaze.
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