By Charlie Shaw
We live at the house by the side of the hill,
A home away from home.
A better place you couldn't find
No matter where you roam.
For when the rain beats on the windows
Or the snow piles high outside,
Your sitting here in comfort
With your roommate by your side.
The nurses arc a kindly lot
They are always happy and gay.
They make your bed and clean your room
And bring meals on a tray.
Even those in wheelchairs,
They greet you with a smile."
There are a few exceptions,
They are a bit senile.
Sometimes we get so lonely,
And sometimes we blue,
But cheer up and do not worry
There's a lot worse off then you.
And when we die, we don’t know where we go.
For life is such a mystery that no one knows for sure.
We hope that we will meet again
On Heaven’s distant shore.
Now I'm speaking for my self alone
But what I say is true...
If you are good to people,
They will be good to you.
Charlie Shaw was my grandfather, he wrote this in a seniors residence in Sydney when he was in his ninties. he died when he was 96.
2 comments:
Lovely.
This poem was written by my grandfather Charlie Shaw.
he was in a nursing home in Sydney when he wrote it and it was published in the Cape Breton Post.
he was 96 when he died.
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