He's standing at the window; bird watching.
His shoulders drooping, his back bent;
The dark hair now grey and thinning,
His youthful energy spent.
His once fitting trousers now bag,
Comforting his legs now bent and thin.
Bony arms, one bearing a skintag;
Liver spots mark his skin.
He turns, his eyes on mine stare
Vacant; those eyes once blue,
Time doesn't seem to hold a care.
No. Such preservations are few.
My heart grieves as I search his face,
Looking for the spouse that I once knew.
Is he resting in some other space,
Dreaming dreams anew?
I mourn my lover; our lost passion,
The laughter, mentor, faithful friend.
Such a giver, not knowing ration
Not knowing what lies around the bend.
I call to him; he grasps my hand
And smiles the smile that lights a room;
But the fear of lost memory takes its stand,
Pray, who created this hideous doom?
I hold him (scorning this disease)
And sooth him with a song of love;
All is gone now, (no memories)
Though what still remains - is love.
January 8th 2016
Poppy How well you express the desperation one feels when a loved one slowly slips away. It is very moving. Tom Billsborough
Thankyou Waseem, it was very kind of you to leave a response and it's very much appreciated.
the sadness seeps through your words into our hearts bringing tears to our eyes. no exaggeration, believe me. thank you for sharing.
Thankyou Ann. Dementia is such a cruel thing. I wrote this on seeing a man stood by the window in the care home where I visit my mother.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I feel your sadness. beautifully put.
Thankyou Ann. Dementia is such a cruel thing. I wrote this on seeing a man stood by the window in the care home where I visit my mother.