I haven’t lost my mind yet, but I must have lost hundreds of umbrellas and that’s a pity in this depressing June weather.  The only one I have left is a half broken Black Watch tartan number that belonged to my Mother, and she died  nearly 20 years ago. That does make me wonder why I still have hers when I’ve lost all the rest. Is she still exerting her influences beyond the grave I wonder?

So, on this grim June day I give you my reflection on one of the cruellest of illnesses, and pray [sort of] that my forgetfulness won’t go too far beyond umbrellas, sunglasses and keys.


Edith are you in there,

Tucked inside your mind?

Are you waiting for me somewhere,

Or  am I left behind?


Yes, it’s really morning,

And it’s time to drink your tea,

No, I’m not a prison warder,

I’m here to keep you free.


Let’s have a game of Patience,

-But oh your wild grey eyes-

You say I am the King of Spades,

And rattle with surprise.


Here’s our wedding photo,

A wreath around your hair,

That posy now is nettles,

Those eyes a vacant stare.


Trixie died last spring time,

She’s out beneath the tree,

I’ve told you that so many times,

No need to scream at me.


You wander down the garden

With a saucepan and a spoon

You say you are the Ace of Spades

And God is coming soon.


Yes, it’s really evening,

And time to go to bed,

But you’ve dribbled on your nightie,

And put pudding on your head.


The cards are on the table,

They don’t make sense to me,

I thought you were the Queen of Hearts,

Oh pity, pity me.



About rhymebydesign

Mother, grandmother, mainstream poet and short story writer. Started off in life as a teacher, but then moved out of the classroom in to educational administration. Curious about what makes people tick, including my own tickings! I enjoy long walks, thought provoking books, theatre and leading a simple life. I offer a customised poetry writing service for any occasion you might like to mark. Contact me at rhymebydesign@hotmail.com for a quick quote.

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