Just Annie sitting by the window ….
Watching the world go by.
Myopic eyes turned inwards,
Blindly seeing without seeing
Nery a blur or an itinerant bloated floater.
Just Annie sitting by the window ….
In charity shop mis-matched, misfits
Sporting yesteryears flannelette fashion
Washed-out acrylic cardi, once so chic,
lop-sided, buttoned up to high heaven.
Just Annie sitting by the window ….
Ensconced in her squeaky plastic chair,
Cradled in situ by friendly lumpy cushions,
Curvaceously slumped in a warm, wet pool
Of her own particular brand of lemonade.
Just Annie sitting by the window ….
Spoon-fed as a scrawny, fledgling birdie,
Open-wide now, just a little bit more.
Assaulted lips that no longer sing or smile,
Cottage pie an encrusted grease lipstick.
Just Annie sitting by the window ….
A pastiche of her previous splendour.
Mr. Alzheimer holding her tight and silent
Has stolen the very essence of herself
Her Husband, her Daughter, her life.
Just Annie sitting by the window ….
No longer hearing the multitude whispering
You will be alright; we will visit you,
You can come home soon, when you are better.
It was all smoking mirrors and damnable lies.
Just Annie no longer sitting by the window ….
In the Care Home where the family left her.
She abandoned Mr. Alzheimer at the altar
Smiling, Annie slipped away nice and quietly
To laugh, dance and sing elsewhere.
Annie no longer sits at the window ….
Decrepit, unaware, forgotten, spent.
New vistas permeate this other realm.
There is no longer a need for familial
Secrets: Lies or Omissions.
Annie will no longer reside….
In an earthly home,
She is home, where she belongs.
The perfect place ….
A Mr. Alzheimer-free Heaven.
Janet Stoyel is a newly Practicing Wordsmith. After a long career in Textiles, Janet now focuses her attention upon Creative Writing. Janet writes for the pure appreciation and joy found in language: in letters: words, sentences. Janet is Dyslexic She chooses, organises, weaves, and constructs, her written vocabulary into her distinctive freeform language. Janet lives in a small Somerset Village in the UK. It is a sleepy, rural area of Wetlands noted for the growing of Willow and the making of baskets – a great place to write!