Just For You Poetry

"John !............, your daughter's here"
John was mesmerized by the Christmas tree lights.
His pipe and slipper days perpetuated his mortality.
He had lived here between one and thirteen years.
He thought it might be Africa but it was a leafy
suburb of London. An aroma of roast turkey and
urine wafted across the large lounge. John had
never been married to his bride of forty two years.
The fairies glistened in his eyes and the tinsel
promised the joys of times gone by. Some real,
some imagined, all misfiled in his minds eye.

"John !,.... your daughter's here" the voice repeated.
The voice, normally gruff and dictatorial, seemed
strangely soft and concerned. Nurses were lovely
when visitors came. Some of his cornflakes had
collected on John's collar. "Bacon and egg" grinned
John, "It's always Bacon and egg. I blame
the shirt". A young woman leaned over John and
kissed his forehead tenderly. "Have you brought
my lunch nurse " asked John vacantly.

"Daddy, it's me" , pleaded Joanna, "Your daughter" !
John returned to the control that altered the sequence
of the fairy lights. "I never married" he mumbled
passively "If you've none to make you laugh, you've
none to make you cry. They say it's Christmas nurse.
I wonder if anyone has got more crackers"

A very serious undertone to what seems a humorous write at first Steve.

These people suffer so much in silence, drifting in and out of the real world.

I have worked in care homes and loved being there on Christmas day when most people receive a gift from the carers which is often the only gift they get all year, thankfully John has a caring daughter , even if he doesn't know it.

This really pulls at the heartstrings as Christmas can be happy for some and sad for others. "An aroma of roast turkey and urine" is such a strong image as are so many others that lead to memory loss. But as you have such a great sense of humor I did smile at the last line, and it is great to see you on this site Steven.