Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

Read Poems by Liz Walsh

Liz Walsh Avatar  Send Soup Mail  Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below are poems written by poet Liz Walsh. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.

List of ALL Liz Walsh poems

Best Liz Walsh Poems

+ Follow Poet

The poem(s) are below...


Her Dying - a memory -

She had a stroke six weeks before
and slept downstairs
'So they could keep an eye on her
- my lovely grandmother, Elizabeth.
I would whisper
'Granny, are you alright?'
and be shushed out of the room.
On December 12th, 1961
she was dying.  They knelt around the bed
and said the Rosary.
May and Lizzie, their husbands and children,
cousins and neighbours, droning their prayers.
As she struggled to breathe:  loud then slow and slowing,
the candle flickered shadows on the wall.
Sad faces, some old and lined, anticipating
the arrival of the Monsignor - to give her Unction.
They hoped that she would live until he arrived.
'She had a good life - a long life' they said
'Eighty-Seven years'.
'But some people live to be a hundred!'
my thirteen year old self shouted back -
My mother and the nurse laid her out
on her big mahogany bed.
'The ritual gave me comfort'
Mam said later -
Best linens, starched and waiting
for this time - her habit - a dress especially made for death
Beads entwined in her dear fingers.
These preparations a ceremony of love and care
I wouldn't, couldn't look at her
They did -
I hated them for that.

Copyright © Liz Walsh | Year Posted 2012


Post Comments

Please Login to post a comment

  1. Date: 12/6/2015 1:35:00 PM

    Liz, Enjoyed reading your poem today. LUV **SKAT**
  1. Date: 2/16/2012 6:39:00 PM

    Liz, I can see how you feel... i deny my family... thank you for sharing your deepest thoughts with us... always..pd
  1. Date: 1/17/2012 1:20:00 PM

    Liz, I find "viewings" of our lost loved ones repulsive. How much better it is to remember your grandmother as she was when alive. Six days after my father's stroke we were told there was no hope and his living will was read aloud. No choice but to pull the respirator. It must have been even harder to see your grandmother linger in this state for six weeks. My condolences on her passing, but this is a very powerful poem! Love, Carolyn