Waking
Waking as a beached whale
I slowly, imperceptibly,
transform myself into a seal
but still barely move at all,
battling with gravity.
Every inch of me pulsates,
harmonising with my heart
as, dry-mouthed, I
think my thoughts
and wait
for the tide.
©2006
Last Night
Last night was the worst I ever had.
I've had some nights, but this was Bad.
Hot and sticky, I lay awake
aware of every pain and ache.
Pains in fingers, pains in toes,
a bad sore throat and a stuffed up nose.
On top of that this crazy eye
that's either weeping or far too dry.
Heartburn, that's a constant curse
to add to the list and make things worse
plus indigestion, gas on tap,
enough to make anyone feel like crap.
Limbs that twitched and jumped around,
a heartbeat equally unsound,
swollen feet and ankles too -
what on earth was I to do?
Honey helped to ease the throat
and mastic left a sweeter note
but there was nothing to be done
about the heat. Turn off the sun!
I did sleep briefly, twice, last night
but woke up both times in a fright:
nightmares, something rare with me;
making up for it, obviously.
Finally I slept, and how,
and do feel somewhat better now
but if that's all old age has in store
it's not worth waiting round here for.
© 2006
A Prayer
Lord of the universe, powers that be,
send some energy, please, to me.
Give me the strength to leave my bed,
to realise whats in my head.
It's so very hard to cope this way,
with less and less stamina every day.
So, please, if someone is listening there,
have a heart, please, hear my prayer.
But if that's not part of the grand design
then show me another way to shine;
some help perhaps, some kindly soul
who'll enable me to reach my goal
of simply being what I should be,
before you set my spirit free.
© 2007
The Grey Ones
We cling to shreds of self respect
as all we were just slips away;
watch, with fading intellect,
our lives and loves as they decay.
Like members of some strange new sect
we close our eyes and seem to pray,
bow our heads and genuflect
as energy just ebbs away.
Nothing works as we expect;
limbs and fingers disobey.
People now and then suspect
we're drunk, regard us with dismay.
We do attempt to sit erect
and stay awake throughout the day
but, slowly, as our powers defect
we slump, with faces white as whey.
So if you think that you detect
a lack of willingness to play
you'd almost - almost - be correct
but it's not apathy, per se.
We have to jealously protect
the little strength we have each day;
eke out the energy, reject
activities that make us pay.
We try to hide that we neglect
ourselves and let things go astray;
our conversation circumspect
as life gets harder every day.
Life is lived in retrospect;
betraying us, our bodies sway.
Please think about what you expect
of such as we, whose lives are grey.
© 2007