A quiet reflection…

A man gave his all at work today
he strove with his usual endeavour,
but the father whose child he saved this day
will now always love him forever.
A nurse, overstretched, yet so willing,
will care for her patients all day;
yet they will not hear her ever complain
she leaves that till she’s far away.

When sitting in a pub with those such as she
she lets go the strain and then moans
no patient will ever hear her though
nor any parent feel her tired angst
for they are ever so grateful
as they smile and give her their thanks.

A bed is moved by two young men
in a quiet and dignified way
it’s just one of many singular things
that make up a porters day.
And all of the time, the ladies
will keep the wards so flush
and the things they see, but don’t see
as they work with their mop and brush.

And the patient lies there quiet and inert
as a battle-royal takes place
but we see that progress is being made
as bewilderment slowly slips from her face.
Small steps we take each one of us
as we live with fingers crossed
every person is pulling their weight
and no-one will stop whatever the cost.
Hope springs
Love abounds.

©Joe Wilson – A quiet reflection…2016

When Mum darned our socks…

Thinking back yet again to my childhood
And the shoelace I couldn’t quite fasten
To the many ways Mum used to help me
With those little skills parents pass on.
Six children to love and she really did
She would though, she was our Mum
As well as soothing our often cut knees
She cooked all the food for our tum.
She’d darn our socks and wash our clothes
And iron things we don’t iron now
Then all of it would just disappear into drawers
As if done by magic somehow.
But Mum didn’t have it anyway easy
Dad died at just fifty-two
And Mum struggled on and raised us alone
But at night-time she cried, we all knew.
As the new day began there would be not a sign
Of the heartache her nights brought to her
She got on with the task of raising her brood
To her feelings she’d rarely refer.
Dad had grown vegetables to feed us
He grew dahlias for my mother, his love
They’ve both been long gone now from this place
Now they stroll hand in hand up above.

©Joe Wilson – When Mum darned our socks…2015

The Lady on the Hill

I see a fine looking lady sitting on a hill
Pretty flowers all around her and she’s sitting so still
She is watching a little girl play with a ball
She smiles at the sight and is totally enthralled.

The little girl laughed as she chased the ball down
If she got too far away the fine lady frowned
One time the ball ran over my way
So I rolled it right back, she continued to play.

The lady then opened a hamper to eat
There were biscuits and cakes and many a treat
The little girl tried a small sandwich at first
Biting it gingerly with her tiny lips pursed.

She was smiling again as she ate a cream cake
That was much more enjoyable, there was no mistake
After fruit juice and tea it was all put away
They gathered their things and called it a day.

I often see them both up on the hill
I sit here and watch them and smile
The girl calls me Daddy, the fine lady, dear
And we all leave together for our home close to here.

©JRW2014