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A jealous wind blows through the rooms

of St.Augusta's Nursing Home

Mrs.Grundy come last Monday

wore her come to bedtime eyes

to beckon Mr. Albert Gregory

and work her charms now recollected

her hands to places reconnected.

 

The word went round from nurse to nurse

whose jobs were often well rehearsed

especially in Mr. Gregory's case

large as he was in the fuselage

with ambitions primordial

and a welcome most cordial.

 

A jealous wind blows through the home

faces are smeared with makeup again

the reek of scent is on the ascent

and Mr. Gregory selects a tie

checks his flow in the toilet mirror

a release of tension, a minor niagara

 

considers his options with unnatural vigour

then prises out another viagra.

◄ O TO BE A POET

LAID TO REST ►

Comments

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raypool

Wed 31st May 2017 21:05

I'm so pleased you enjoyed this Cynthia. I don't know where the idea came from, just a sense of the ridiculous I suppose - but as it fleshed out i'm glad it provided a few laughs. I aim to please.

Ray

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Wed 31st May 2017 16:14

Hilarious, and aptly penned with flair and care. Your opening line is a showstopper! And picked up again later, which may imply another round, this time with staff?

Oh, I laughed.

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raypool

Tue 30th May 2017 19:42

Thanks gents for liking my extravaganza. I should have said that no reputations were harmed in the writing of this poem.

Keith I thank you for reading and listening.

I enjoyed your comment, David. No reason why experiments should not be indulged in in confined spaces, even to having government funded visitations by professionals to ease those long nights, surely? Health and safety may of course be a problem.

Col. I apologize for your brevity but the thought was there!
Thanks.

Mark, I loved your small but highly significant true story, told in the best possible taste, unlike my own . Silverlawns is such a great name too. Perhaps I may use it in a future poem?

Love to all. Ray

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M.C. Newberry

Tue 30th May 2017 12:33

I spent a number of months visiting my late mother in a
place called "Silverlawns" - a residential home that offered
security and a place to call her own in her late onset of
dementia. I much prefer Ray's version!! Thanks for the
chuckles that brought back earlier memories of a
previous establishment above the local harbour where she
met and found late happiness with her third husband.
NB - Silverlawns, like my mother, is no more...a victim of
time like everything else in our world.

<Deleted User> (13762)

Tue 30th May 2017 09:06

for once I am lost for words Ray ?

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keith jeffries

Mon 29th May 2017 21:05

Ray, this is just so very good. Thank you. Keith

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