Lost Treasures Poem by ivor or ivor.e hogg

Her jewel box is full of dreams
It is to her or so it seems
as Grandmas aged fingers play
with jewels of a bygone day.

Some are of gold and precious stones
but they are not her favourite ones
It is the lesser ones that free
the floodgates of her memory.

A crystal pendant will recall
the night she went to her first ball
Sweet seventeen and innocent.
The crystal pendant her present.

from father who insists that she
his little princess has to be.
The fairest flower of them all
who graced the debutantes ball.

The cheaper trinkets stimulate
vignettes which are more intimate
Fond memories she never shared
perhaps because she never dared.

She sits absorbed in reverie
as she remembers vividly
The golden memories of her youth.
Although in fact to tell the truth.

Her short term memory is gone
but distant memories linger on.
Her body insists she must rest
she quickly loses interest.

How sad it is for us to see
the woman that she used to be
become as helpless as a child.
A truth to which we’re reconciled.

I pray each day for her release
Alzheimers is dread disease
I am quite sure she’d rather be
dead than devoid of dignity.

20-Jan-08