Life... - A collection of verse by Barnaby Wilde

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I caught her eye across the room, As hard as steel and cold as doom… … And then she threw her wooden limb, Which whacked me soundly round my chin. And as I nursed my aching jaw, I watched her hop across the floor, Suspended on her zimmer frame. But though I scrabbled as she came, I couldn’t find my other crutch, And suddenly I felt the clutch, Of her false teeth upon my ear. Although I yelled, she didn’t hear, Her deaf aid had dropped off en route. I grabbed for her remaining boot, Just as that orthopaedic gear, Was swinging at my injured ear. I twisted hard and down she went, Her monocle, completely bent, Sent flying in the general maul, To crash against the distant wall. But even this was not the worst, As her colostomy bag burst, She yanked the grey wig from her head, And whipped me with it while she said,

“I’m nearly eighty four you know”. I cowered ‘neath her feeble blows, Winded momentarily. Her gaze, unfocused, wandered free. One vacant mind, one empty socket, Her glass eye in my vest pocket. One leg, one eye, deaf, bald andfat. This? Just another little spat, To ease the boredom before tea. The endless hours of dull TV, Of sitting, staring into space, Of waiting out our final days. Remembering when we were young, Forgetting to put in our tongues. Enduring our retirement, Daily more incontinent. And after tea there’ll be just time, For one more harmless little crime, Another aggravating jape ... …I’ll hide her eye ball in the grapes. Tee hee hee! (November 2000)

A Senior Moment