This was found in a bedside drawer at a retirement home
What do you see nurses? . . .. .. . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . . when you're looking at me?
A crabby old man . . .. . . not very wise,
Uncertain of habit . . . . . with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food . . . . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . . . . . 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . .. . . . the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . . . The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking? . . . . . Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am. . . . .. . As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . . . . . with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . . . who love one another.
A young boy of Sixteen . . . . with wings on his feet.
Dreaming that soon now . .. . . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . . . my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows . . . . . that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . .. . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . . . . With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons . . .. . . have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me . . . . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . .. . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . . my wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing . . . . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . . . and the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . ... . . . and nature is cruel.
Tis jest to make old age . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . . . . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . . . . . a young guy still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . . .. . gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . . . open and see.
Not a crabby old man .. . . Look closer . .. . see ME!!
Alan and Adele
The Mongrel
and Delilah
Very , very good !!
Cheers, Gerty. ... at home"Leaning forward to see whats coming"
astroid60 wrote:This was found in a bedside drawer at a retirement home What do you see nurses? . . .. .. . What do you see?What are you thinking . . . . . when you're looking at me?A crabby old man . . .. . . not very wise,Uncertain of habit . . . . . with faraway eyes?Who dribbles his food . . . . . and makes no reply.When you say in a loud voice . . . . . 'I do wish you'd try!'Who seems not to notice . .. . . . the things that you do.And forever is losing . . . . . A sock or shoe? Who, resisting or not . . . . . lets you do as you will,With bathing and feeding . . . . . The long day to fill?Is that what you're thinking? . . . . . Is that what you see?Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . you're not looking at me. I'll tell you who I am. . . . .. . As I sit here so still,As I do at your bidding, . . . . . as I eat at your will.I'm a small child of Ten . . . . . with a father and mother,Brothers and sisters . . . . . who love one another. A young boy of Sixteen . . . . with wings on his feet.Dreaming that soon now . .. . . . a lover he'll meet.A groom soon at Twenty . . . . . my heart gives a leap.Remembering, the vows . . . . . that I promised to keep. At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . I have young of my own.Who need me to guide . . . . . And a secure happy home.A man of Thirty . . . .. . My young now grown fast,Bound to each other . . . . . With ties that should last. At Forty, my young sons . . .. . . have grown and are gone,But my woman's beside me . . . . . to see I don't mourn.At Fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee,Again, we know children . . .. . . My loved one and me. Dark days are upon me . . . . . my wife is now dead.I look at the future . . . . . shudder with dread.For my young are all rearing . . . . . young of their own.And I think of the years . . . . . and the love that I've known. I'm now an old man . ... . . . and nature is cruel.Tis jest to make old age . . . . . look like a fool.The body, it crumbles . . . . . grace and vigour, depart.There is now a stone . . . . where I once had a heart. But inside this old carcass . . . . . a young guy still dwells,And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells.I remember the joys . . . . . I remember the pain.And I'm loving and living . . . . . life over again. I think of the years, all too few . . . .. . gone too fast.And accept the stark fact . . . . that nothing can last.So open your eyes, people . . . . . open and see.Not a crabby old man .. . . Look closer . .. . see ME!! Thank you.Yes a tear fell from a cranky old Bugger like me.Certainly makes one appreciate just what they do have.
NeilnRuth
