My mother's poems

My mother has Parkinson's disease. She will be ninety in May. She cannot walk, she cannot get out of bed by herself or dress herself or bathe herself.. Sometimes she cannot swallow. But she is a poet and she can wheel herself to the computer to write poetry. She is the "Queen" of Sunrise assisted living where she runs her own poetry group!! She just wrote these two poems.

Her teeth are falling out from the Parkinson's medication. There is nothing that can be done. ( Two front ones just fell out)


FRAUGHT WITH FRIGHT

Well, this is dismal, to say the least.
I look in the mirror and see a beast!
How can I feel pretty inside
and look like someone's backside?

Your have read my stories, funny but true
about teeth, the cat and some about you.
I talk about everything under the sun
often forgetting I'm not the only one.

There are many pillows in my room.
The favorite one banishes all gloom.
It says "blah, blah" all over the place
giving me courage to show this toothless,
pumpkin face!

Alice Burt 4 sept 2010

( I had made her a pillow with the Maxine...blah fabric.)


And Still the River Runs
With a rush we cannot beat
Our world turns upside down
we will not accept defeat

With brave endeavor
We shore up strength
To meet this trial together

Love conquers all, so true
Hearts beat overtime
Our devotion is to you.

Alice Burt 4 Sept 2010

My mother has ruined whining for me. She never whines and she has great reason to. Just thought I would share.

Diane