Back when I was a child,
they said I was poor,
but I did not know it.
Until one of my teachers pointed at me and said,
it’s okay for you to show it,
and that you have no cause for shame.
I should have asked her then,
but my mind didn’t comprehend,
and to this day I still think about what message
she was trying to send.
Ashamed of what— I never knew,
so I lived my childhood
without a clue.
Maybe there was something,
or someone I should blame.
But I was never one to follow the rules of the game.
I just smiled and said okay,
then I walked out to join my friends,
on the playground’s monkey bars.
I was the king of the monkey bars,
and I was not ashamed of that either.
Tag: reflection
Transitions
Ah yes there’s the rub; life’s small transitions
A birth to youth, youth to age, age to death
Much too quickly my brothers and sisters
Have passed through their veil of reality
And now join the orchestra of rapture
Too quickly I follow their lanterns glow
Sing to me a song, my Angels of grief
I can’t remember my life from before
Carefree and chasing the forever more
Alzheimer’s
My wife and I have always been, for lack of a better word, loners. We have children, grandchildren, brothers and sisters that we dearly love. But we have always been nomads and spent our entire lives enjoying the company of each other. We are the best of friends. I wrote this poem quite awhile ago after watching a family member suffer from dementia. For my wife and I, our greatest fear would be to lose our memories of each other.
Alzheimer’s
Please old man you must let me be relieved
Let me go where I will not be abused
Old man you know it’s me they have deceived
My mind is silent waiting to be used
My memories, they are fading faster
It is my sadness that has been released
Old man you know that you are my master
Oh please…why won’t you let me find some peace?
So I will go to join their procession
But first there is someone that I must seek
She is standing, in love, right beside me
But our fingertips just don’t seem to meet
Her hair burns bright with the color of fire
She is standing in the night beside me
Is it my mottled mind, am I dreaming
Or is it that I just need to believe
Crochet
Red, orange, yellow, purple, blue and green;
The colors flow smoothly from her fingers
A rainbow of yarn like I’ve never seen
So absorbed in her I stop and linger
With every twist of her agile wrist
I watch intently as the afghan grows
Without looking, she creates every stitch
Then carefully crochets them into rows
The weight of it on her is comforting
Its warmth blocks out the chilly winter air
Still I can’t keep myself from wondering
Will it soon be too much for her to bear?
Changes
I have seen many years;
They have not changed me
I have lived life;
Life has not defeated me
I have seen death;
Death has not altered me
I have known love;
Love has not abandoned me
I have seen darkness;
Darkness has not frightened me
I have felt failure;
Failure has not weakened me
I will sing my songs;
My words will comfort me
Jerry Brotherton 