When I was ill I would put on a good blouse and my friend Sharron would take me to the Oncologist, then when I had no veins left it was the Angiologist, we always had a laugh and I remember my treatment with pain but also that humour. I wrote this with that in mind…
‘Though not every day’s a good day, still a few are,
And not sure the things we could say, still it’s too far…
I can love and I can care, yet the pain I cannot share,
Just distract you through despair, let you see that I am there…
Whilst the treatment isn’t fun, sometimes it’s funny,
With our future all undone, what could be sunny?
Whilst slowly pickling you, there’s adventure in the new,
Like we’ll work out what to do, if we stick together too…
I remember when we met, young and passioned, out to get,
Awkward, youthful blushing threat, we conquered that and yet,
We need to hold that trust, to believe in fairy dust,
To let the joke adjust, else-wise we may combust…
I can stay and I can sing, yet the needles will still sting,
Just focus on this thing, this is now, but done by spring…
Me and my cat have made a recording of this poem at,
Clutching Straws https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnEjm3ycNOs&feature=youtu.be
