email address: [log in to unmask] - 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!! >