GladToCare Awareness Week poetry challenge 6th-12th July. Join Gaynor Kane, Ailsa Cawley, Samantha Terrell, Graham Bibby, Mary Druce, sonja benskin mesher, Yvonne Moura and myself. Let’s celebrate, notice the often unappreciated work of carers, both at home and in carehomes. Please email your poems to me. Monday: Home Carers, Tuesday: Care Homes Wednesday: How Do I Want To Be Cared For, Or Not Thursday: How I Care? Friday: Saturday: ‘A day in the life of a loved one in a care home’ Sunday: Why Do We Care? Here are today’s: Friday: Who Will Be Choosing My Carehome?

Put me in a place

Put me where I smell the air
Put me in a window
Rolling purple heather hills
To front or side

Let me smell the peaty richness
Let me see spring dance
Outside that window
I told you of

Please don’t let me face a wall
Or be trapped in an airless room
Give me my own few things
Where someone chats with me
Just talking of daily things
Without presuming I didn’t always
Live in the shell I’m now trapped

Once I walked the hills I see
Climbed the hills I watch
I’m still a part of them until
You force me to turn from them
They are my memories and life

-AilsaCawleyPoetry2020

.thank you for asking.

thank you for asking and the answer
would be quicker if I had cut my nails
to bounce the keyboard here

funny you should ask as i was thinking
over this yesterday while walking

how

it felt unfair that after all those years
of housekeeping
keeping his house clean
tidy, fitting in with all his
timetables and breathing

not breathing

that

she had to go to the home quietly
where she remained quietly

her daughter also went later
and remain quiet

i lived in a home in milton road
milton house, place of nighmare
for us kids

wettened beds
stinking laundry

deleted

so I stayed quiet

so thank you so much for asking
and being so thoughtful yet I tell

you clearly
that I do not want a care situation ever
for all the good it will do, so i won’t stay

quiet now
forgive me

I hope your dad had green in his view

other colours too

-sbm

This is written about my Nana who was going into a home permanently, after a temporary home to recover from heart attacks and falls and she couldn’t manage at home anymore. This is her viewpoint to my Dad who felt bad for not having room to take her in

Don’t feel bad, laddie. I know it’s not that you don’t want me. Whatever I say won’t cut it, will it, son? You see I’m used to my own space, my way of doing things. I’m pretty sure I can have that here. The room is a big one. The bed faces the light and I can watch the sky. They wanted me to face the door. The door’s a bore. The sky has pictures and it’s like a moving picture house if I look. I’ve time to do it, now. I’ll miss popping to Liptons for tea, and Woolworths for lunch. But you know I have plenty to keep me busy. I talk to people. Some say I’m nosey and say too much. But these young ones, seem to come to me for guidance. So I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. They’re in a bad relationship, I’ll tell them and say if they’re being taken advantage of. How can they be strong when nobody teaches them when to say no? So I’ll stay here, and dole out the advice to them as want it. Sometimes them as don’t! My days are full. I don’t stay in the communal rooms much. The ones who are going in their mind scare me a bit. I’m scared it’s catching and I’m not being next. I do stay when they sing though. Or when they bring in the history people who ask about my life as a child. I wasn’t always old. I didn’t always have a dicky heart. I didn’t always fall for nowt. But that was then son. I’ve got a few new books. I love these spy stories. They sound exciting to us normal folk. It’s sunny out there and I want to go a walk. Leazes Park in the sun or something nice. I’ll close my eyes a moment and think of childhood, my children and grandchildren. That daughter of yours will be in later. I’ll tell her some stories. She likes my old days chatter. I have all her secrets. You go son, I’m tired. Don’t you worry about me.

Copyright signAilsaCawleyPoetry

Written in memory of my nana Mary Williamson (Cawley) from who I took many lessons and my writing name.

One thought on “GladToCare Awareness Week poetry challenge 6th-12th July. Join Gaynor Kane, Ailsa Cawley, Samantha Terrell, Graham Bibby, Mary Druce, sonja benskin mesher, Yvonne Moura and myself. Let’s celebrate, notice the often unappreciated work of carers, both at home and in carehomes. Please email your poems to me. Monday: Home Carers, Tuesday: Care Homes Wednesday: How Do I Want To Be Cared For, Or Not Thursday: How I Care? Friday: Saturday: ‘A day in the life of a loved one in a care home’ Sunday: Why Do We Care? Here are today’s: Friday: Who Will Be Choosing My Carehome?

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