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Roger Turner - Poet
Poems
May 2012
ST. Albans Hospice - (The Street - poem 8)
The room was sparsely furnished
But the room was very clean
"I think my mum will like this"
said Veronica McQueen
"The bed, folds up from both ends"
"And it's heated too, you'll see"
"there's a dresser in the corner"
"With a spot for a TV"
She walked on to the window
Looked on out to see the view
She could see a little chapel
With a pathway out there too
"The residents...they're treated well ?"
Veronica asked Joan
"They're given the best sort of care"
"But here, they're not alone"
A tour around the grounds then
settled down poor Ronnies nerves
She was sure her Mum would feel at home
It's the best that she deserves
But, before she signed the papers
She chose to walk on down the path
It was gravel with some thyme beside
Part way down...a small bird bath
She saw a man just sitting
On a bench...all by himself
He was dressed up all in green
He looked like a little elf
He was talking to the wind she thought
For no one was around
But, she realized whom he spoke too
When he rose and looked around
He walked up to a marker
And stooping low on his old knees
He kissed the stone so gently
Beneath the lowing trees
Veronica then left him
And she hurried to the house
She did not want to scare him
She was as quiet as a mouse
She said "I'll sign the papers"
"It's so nice and peaceful here"
So the two finished their dealings
With a solemn "Thank you dear"
Ronnie's mum...now that's a story
single mother all her life
Ronnie never knew her father
Her mum was never someone's wife
She worked two jobs for quite a time
She was always working hard
So Veronica could grow up with
A nice house with a yard
A few years back the doctors said
ALS had ventured forth
And that Ronnie would need expert help
They said, for what it's worth
Well, two years in...past what they said
Ronnie had to find a place
Where her mother could close out her life
With dignity and grace
She'd found the perfect hospice
At St. Albans by the shore
It had all that she needed
She just couldn't ask for more
By the time they moved her mother in
Her voice was lost inside
But the staff could see, this woman
was full of love and pride
She knew where she would end up
Ronnie took her down to see
Her mother's voice box spoke out
"I'm so glad you're here with me"
"You've become a strong, young woman"
"One I'm proud to call my own"
"You're a woman in my image"
"You're more special than you know"
Veronica, looked out to sea
And she thought of the old man
Who she saw such a short time ago
On the day she turned and ran.
She picked a spot and wheeled her Mum
Beneath the bending, willow tree
She stood behind her and she looked
At the view out to the sea
There were sailboats, seagulls, beachcombers
She could see from where she stood
She would lay her mum to rest right here
And she thought, "yes, this is good"
Two weeks past by and Ronnies Mum
Was taken in the night
They said she didn't suffer
And that all would be all right
A service was held down the path
And they laid her mum to rest
There were staff there, and Veronica
And this old man in his vest
He said "My Mary's over there"
"Beside the bench, beneath the tree"
"I'm sure they'll be the best of friends'
"And if they can, why don't we?"
Ronnie stared at this poor man
and she said " That would be nice"
He then said "now, we're friend my dear"
"Come with me, we'll have a slice"
He'd brought some ginger cake along
For his vistit to his wife
Now, twice weekly he and Ronnie
Spend time taling 'bout their life
Now these two could share their stories
And give the dead what they deserved
At that small St. Albans Hospice
By the seaside round the curve.
Written by
Roger Turner - Poet
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