Poem: Elders Torment

Potions and pills for pain and ills

Oh dear, what can the matter be?
Less able to think, to hear and to see.
Movements are cautious, unsteady and slow
Can’t reach very high, nor bend too low.
Awkward and clumsy, spilling and dropping
Extra effort of retrieving and mopping
Sometimes the speech has a bit of a slur
The past and the present becoming a blur
News and messages are foggy, unclear
Because of faulty eyes and one ear
Surrounded by anxiety, distrust and fear.
Time passes quickly year by year,
Preparing for death is not an easy task
Business papers, receipts, calendars and books
Scattered about in boxes and books,
Photos, letters, post cards all in a jumble
Causes one often to mumble and grumble.
Now this mind is tired and spinning,
Eyes are sore and the vision is twinning.
Games, dreams, dilemmas, paradoxes is the talk
Time to go for a refreshing walk
To sit with the flowers, grass and the trees
The lake, the birds and the buzzing of bees
Calmed by the breeze, a wind and some rain
Return to cope with the muddle again
To continue to sort, dispose this re-organizing task
Was and is this all necessary I ask?

Anonymous
 

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