A Place Called Home......The Eldely Infirm Poem by saadat tahir
A Place Called Home......The Eldely Infirm
I was the proverbial busy bee
Up in the attic down on my knee
Brush the piano feed the hare.
Tend the home with loving care.
To the market now, hitch a ride.
Water the hollyhocks on the side.
The fence an lawn were my pride.
So the kids an my hubby's stride.
Walked at a clip an over the hill.
How fast it was I wonder still.
Surely sets to our east and west,
At HOME here, a guess at best.
My glasses I broke on that sill,
get em fixed, don't have the will.
No ones been to see me for days
My sis when called, said she prays
See my hands, he'd tenderly hold,
gave me a solitaire, ringed in gold.
Wrinkled dry, parched with times.
Knobby; shakin, searching dimes.
Could you please do my bed?
Could you nurse have me fed.
O' someone please do my shirts
Do someone, please draw the curts
We wet eyed rock an wait our turns
As nature cavorts an the candle burns
(Islamabad)
(April 22,2009)
Home is the place where we can say we are free within the walls......but one thing that should not reside at any home is loneliness.......the pain of an aging lonely man is brought out in realistic words.....! ..
An appropriate title on a well thought out poem. No matter the situation, home is where the heart is. Thank you for sharing.
Your poem is permeated with philosophy of life. it's candle burning slowly..fleeting and last flicker is death. Last couplet bears plaintive tone and reminds me of Macbeth: 'To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more.'
Stevie Taite sent me over to have a look at your work. Absolutely correct was she: -) Stirring words indeed
though old age can be frightening, it is one unavoidable truth all have to face.your poem has a message to all of us, to take care of oldpeople, so our children learn the same.i admire your sensibility, on touching a subject like this. good write.......ritty
This trend of Home for aged is so pathetic....while aging itself is too horribly painful..your poem is soul stirring....and thanks for your comment on my 'daybreak'
Sad but so true to life. Not an easy time when one gets old and worn out. You did a great job of description with my favorite type of writing style. A '10! ' Best Wishes, Marilyn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/5/2025 6:32:08 AM # 1.0.0
A sad commentary on the process of aging. I picture a room full of rocking chairs and memories. The inhabitants no longer living, merely existing and counting the hours. This is home of a different kind, and yet it is where many will end up. Thought provoking, and difficult to think about. Linda