POETRY CORNER
(All poetry on this website is the copyright of Cyrus Ferguson Wirral UK It must not be published or copied in ANY format without the express permission of the author.)
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CARERS
When you and I are left alone, our friends and helpers gone,
To care for me, you gave your word, but nature took a hand,
I look once more into your eyes, yet see no gleem of sorrow,
December 1997
we sometimes sit, just holding hands like lovers in the sun.
Though now, we live on memories, many from which to choose,
caring for each other, with a love we vowed we would never lose.
In true romance and dashing style, you swept me off my feet,
promised me the earth, and much more, a house in any street.
That made me smile, I know, though you don't recall just now,
promises we both made, our wedding day, or that special vow.
things have not worked out for us quite the way we planned.
It seems to me an unwanted dream, my very worst come true,
a dream in which I stand alone, quite helpless, without you.
Then, as I awake and look around me, I see you, sitting near,
I realise how much you need me now, and I shed a silent tear,
but tomorrow, I will be strong again, caring just for you,
maybe not what we planned, but the best we can do.
only love, which gives to me, the strength to face tomorrow,
I know how much you care for me, you told me every day,
with flowers, cards, and good deeds, love was here to stay.
So natures plan unfolds, with some new challenge every week,
now and then a hill to climb, other times a mountain peak.
It matters not so much to us, what nature has yet instore,
give me your hand, lean on me my love, for now and evermore.
HAPPINESS IS
Happiness is the means by which you're less tense.
November 2004
It could be a joke, well told, but making no sense
Maybe a blessing, a gift. or a well earned state
Of knowing how to listen, without being irate
Not as a right, as entiltled, nor worthless thing
Not just a word, that might pleasantly ring
Happiness could be walking a dog, or stroking a cat
Even giving them names, drawn out of a hat
Not only about feeding, but bonding as well,
Happiness, by the wag of a tail, is easy to tell
Happiness brings laughter, while brushing aside
all thoughts of sadness, and lost human pride
Though the cat purrs its message of happiness too
The mouse stays in hiding, not sure what to do
THE ALZHEIMERS PRAYER
Lord hear my prayer, as your blessing I seek,
Lord hear my thoughts, words I cannot now speak,
Lord grant me peace, I forget what comes next,
FEAR IS ONLY A WORD
REALISE I must, when all is not well
RATIONALISE fear is a word, not a pain REMEDY Think happy thoughts, lying on beaches
November 2004
I seem to forget things much more every week.
Forgive me my trespasses, though I don't recall,
much about sin, wrong doing, or praying, at all.
I remember, once in a while, what I used to do,
like loving my neighbour and believing in you.
prayers not remembered, it gets harder each week,
surrounded by loved ones, so attentive and kind,
their names now escape me, I can't bring to mind,
the Lords prayer, which I once said every night,
especially to you Lord, my own guiding light.
I can't quote the bible, but you know the text,
still, I try to recall, how you taught me to pray,
as I struggle to find, words I used to once say,
in case I forget you Lord, hear one last request,
show me compassion, and I'll cope with the rest.
and some silly thing pulls me apart
it doesn't make sense to sit on the fence
Look for the cure. Now where do I start?
Feelings of panic, are stresses and strain.
Its not a disease of the lungs, heart or mind.
Simply a sensation, a form of depression in kind
Wandering through orchards, picking ripe peaches
or cruising the Nile, might bring a smile
As wide as a mile, to weary, troublesome features
REJOICE in the passing of sensation and fear
Treat every new day as you would a New Year
One in which friends have rallied together
To make you feel happy, no matter whatever
HOME
The birthplace of our history where all great schemes begin
Foundation of hope and dreams, in layers safely deep within
Innermost thoughts, now long since left behind,in disarray
Through sunbeam castings, from dusty pictures now display
Red roses in a garden, or leafy trees,so clear for all to see.
No-one else can read the thoughts that once belonged to me,
Nor translate the deeds, forever locked within my home.
My haven, in the gardens of my mind,my place to be alone.
A reason for belonging, and my shelter in troubled days
A place to weave my dreams, and then in wonder gaze.
Through the window of my soul, as my spirits gently soar
Across the landscape of each dream, to live forever more.
My picture painted, yet still changes, upon each passing day.
This is my home, my life, a dream, no-one can steal away.