Poetry of Comfort

Wounds of the Heart (inspired by a client)

Sores of the feet I walk no more

Alone. all alone to die
I cannot move
I wait for them, they come no more
I call, the bell rings
My thumb hurts
My hands are frail
They do for me no more
I am weak unable to move about
I shower no more
Alone, yes alone

The phone rings and rings
No answer, no visitors
They never come
Cards and gifts
They mean nothing to me
I want to feel, touch and hold
I feel pain being alone
They give me joy
Family is what I need
I need you now my hour is not far
Alone, yes alone

The Day I Stayed

Mom wasn't herself today
So I stayed a while
Engaging conversations became more difficult
Her eyes wandered, strangely around the room

Tear drops fell from my eyes
As I sang the lullaby, she sang to me
She made faces, seemingly more perplexed
Her eyes settled on the caregiver as she smiled

So I captured the moment
Paula she whispered
I proceeded to capture her elegant smile
Recognition of repetition

I am a photographer

Dad too was a photographer                        

Mother was an artist
Tears came streaming gently down my face
       
For that moment I was Paula
As  I laid next to her I whispered
Mother it's me Paula
She wrapped her arms around me as we slept.

***If using poem, please give credit, for these poems are originals!