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Subject: Fw: FW: Old Ladies poem


>         When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital
near
> Dundee,
>         Scotland, it was felt that she had nothing left of any value.
> Later, when
>         the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they
found
> this poem.
>         Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were
made
> and
>         distributed to every nurse in the hospital.  One nurse took her
copy
> to
>         Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since
appeared
> in the
>         Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland
> Association for
>         Mental Health.  A slide presentation has also been made based
on her
> simple,
>         but eloquent, poem. ...And this little old Scottish lady, with
> nothing left
>         to give to the world, is now the authoress of this "anonymous"
poem
> winging
>         across the Internet. Goes to show that we all leave "SOME
footprints
> in
>         time".....
>
>         An Old Lady's Poem
>         What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
>         What are you thinking when you're looking at me?
>         A crabby old woman, not very wise,
>         Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
>         Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
>         When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try!"
>
>         Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
>         And forever is losing a stocking or shoe.....
>         Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,
>         With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill....
>         Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
>         Then open your eyes, nurse; you're not looking at me.
>
>         I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
>         As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
>         I'm a small child of ten ...with a father and mother,
>         Brothers and sisters, who love one another.
>         A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,
>         Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.
>
>         A bride soon at twenty-my heart gives a leap,
>         Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
>         At twenty-five now, I have young of my own,
>         Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.
>         A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast,
>         Bound to each other with ties that should last.
>
>         At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
>         But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.
>         At fifty once more, babies play round my knee,
>         Again we know children, my loved one and me.
>         Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead;
>         I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
>
>         For my young are all rearing young of their own,
>         And I think of the years and the love that I've known.
>         I'm now an old woman ...and nature is cruel;
>         'Tis jest to make old age look like a fool.
>         The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
>         There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
>
>         But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
>         And now and again my battered heart swells.
>         I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
>         And I'm loving and living life over again.
>         I think of the years ....all too few, gone too fast,
>         And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
>
>         So open your eyes, nurses, open and see,
>         ..Not a crabby old woman; look closer ...see ME!!
>