 |
To my right
clinical sterile,
a hospital ward,
beeps, buzzer alerts,
busy hallways,
the clatter of gurney wheels,
chatter of voices..
|
|
I wrote this eighteen months ago, at a time we faced horrendous fire condition. I wrote it of the loss of three American airmen.
|
|
A poem written to a family member, who'd borrowed a book of mine. You know the story. Enjoy!
|
|
I
remember the day so clearly,
she
came into my hospital room,
sitting
on the bed she asked,
“How
important is walking to you?&rdqu..
|
|
I have a friend who is an artist and will enter his work in an upcoming art show. I was asked to write a piece to be mounted alongside. What an honour..
|
 |
he sees the shirt she made
(years since it’s fitted, but
the colours, the feeling)
the green bottle sitting on
the dr..
|
 |
I remember it from when I was a child,
t'was there my naive mind ran wild,
in the corner and painted green,
the brightest shade you’d ever..
|
 |
Reflecting on my handicap, my family and family love, especially my parents.. Forms part of a bigger project, 'Journey', a collection of poetry I want..
|
 |
Thinking about the growing up disabled, but with my three elder siblings.
(Updated, thank you Beccy.)
|
 |
(Why Love?)
Why ....
a heart, if not to love,
for someone’s life to be part of,
a mind, if not to know
thoughts of love..
|
|
|
first
prev
Profile
Writing
Friends
Share This