#vist
*A Sentimental Journey Home
Sunlight slanting in the pane
and Lighting up the floor.
Ivy creeping to the roof
Just like it did before.
At the fence the stately pine
almost reaches to the skies.
A mourning willow sways to and fro
beneath its thousand sighs.
Along the pathway flowers grow
As every year they do:
forget me nots catch morning dew
like tears in their eyes of blue.
A familiar place yet not the same.
The stone has darker grown
And Lichen covers the gabled roof
since I was still at home.
We have changed these passing years
yet here I am once more.
With only echoes ever calling me
From sweet voices of before.
Within my sweetest memory
The sounds of long ago
are calling to me gently
as they whisper oh so low.
The voices fade with shadows dark
inside the broken door
And my tears are seeing what has been
That haunts me evermore.*
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 12:04 PM UTC
The nurse shows me
where Grace sits
in her wheelchair
out on the lawn
in the afternoon
sunshine.
Her blind eyes
peering up
towards the sun
she cannot see.
A blanket covers
her leg stumps
from view
her hands are in
her lap idle.
Hello Grace
I say.
She turns
her eyes
towards me
away from the sun.
Philip?
she says
reaching out to me
with a hand.
I take her
hand in mine
and kiss her cheek.
How are you?
I say
kneeling down
on the grass
beside her.
Depressed and bored
she replies
squeezing my hand
in hers.
Other patients
sit on chairs
or in wheelchairs
talking to others
or sitting alone
taking the sun.
Shall I push you
around a bit
away from the chatter?
I say.
The scene's
the same to me
where ever we go
she says moodily
sit beside me
go get a chair
she adds.
I go back inside
the ward
and borrow a chair
and take it out
and place it
beside her
and sit down.
Cigarette?
I say.
She nods
that'd be good
she says.
I take out a packet
and take out two
and place one
between her lips
and one in mine
and put the packet away.
I light both cigarettes
with a lighter
and we puff away.
She isn't
very talkative.
I talk of things
I have done
(except what is secret
hush hush stuff).
She talks of her day
stuck in the ward
in the dark
being washed
and toileted
listening to the radio
on the ward
playing dance music
or talk of news
and war.
I study her
as we sit
wishing I could
take her out again
for dinner or just
to sit in St James's Park
and be alone.
I miss Clive
she says
**** the War
and Dunkirk
why did he
have to die?
I don't know Grace
the whole show
is going to ***
I say.
If I had my legs
I could fend better
for myself
she says.
They did talk
of getting you
artificial legs
when I was here last
I say.
But when
will that be
what with the War
and such
she says.
The sun is warm
and the sky
a bright blue
clouds drift overhead.
I try to sound optimistic
but it sounds quite lame.
Will you make
love to me
when we can?
she whispers.
I blush
but she cannot see.
When we can
I reply
looking up
at the sky.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 10:31 AM UTC