The nurse dressed all pink; patiently waiting,
for her special patients to rise, very happily.
Gifts like the sun, she leaves behind as she
pulls us up, spreading life around in pools.
She is married to each of us and to each of us
us she spreads her smile, we rise to see each day.
She smells so like a peach, rich her skin is as firm
and unyielding as the hand, she uses daily to wash.
So quick is she in and out, hundreds of times a day it
seems, no one is sure, no one is awake when she leaves.
Some times I think she comes just to make us happy, I
think others come knowing she will come again to know.
When I think of the nurse, I think of peaches and cream,
pink uniforms make me want to go back out side then.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a terrific gal this! She sounds just the ticket to inspire your creative pen... :) 10+++