Hospice Poems - Poems about Hospice

(A lone elderly man holds his wife's hand, for maybe the last time, and whispers. As she sleeps) Although your beauty may fade with age My only love Don't you dare leave me alone Although the shadows like midday angels may slowly appear Creeping in Sent from above To take you home Although your smiles may diminish in numbers As...

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He blinks in and out in a wingchair, overhears what visitors say when patients can be talked about as if not there. People speak well of the dying, even of dying strangers, to him their words prematurely shovel earth. The terminally sick must be accommodated, penciled into time slots, eased gently into oblivion. He listens as he slips downstream on a raft of morphine. These last trips are scenes taken from...

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Sad plight in hospice Fed smorgasmord of drugs Left the great beyond....

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We find ourselves with you in time, Thoughts of you are roaming our minds Angels playing music at the Gate Heaven will be Home; let's call it fate. Do not be weary or troubled, my friend, With words I write but not to offend They are written down to help us, too It's become part of our plight with...

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Mom With Prayer Shawl * In this time of sorrow We are reminded, that none of us get out alive Yet, I treasure the belief With remembering we all survive. * On my last visit to Mom She wore a shawl Draped over her thin shoulders. “The shawl is so beautiful, Mom.” “Yes, Son, I love the soft blue.” * “The other day a young...

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Tortured by the looming death, Beloved, a mother… in hospice care Difficult for her to understand, she breathed A prayer, silently begging the Creator to give her Another day, another smile, another mile With the soul who she’d always known As mom – her friend, her protector and Deep down, the blessing that had been more Than just a mom… She’d been a...

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And there it goes never thought it to you but it goes the breath out of your body the warmth it turns to cold and there it goes. my hand holding yours as you float in and out of consciousness the ebb and flow your eyes are teary and in repose and there it goes. your laughter has gone silent. nothing they can do is...

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The Hospice I needed minor surgery, a place was found at a hospital in another town; a spa town along the coast famous for its many statues and water fountains often visited by intellectually inclined tourists. My wife came with me, as we didn’t think the surgery would take long, she has a map on her mobile phone she is...

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I walk down this street Away from the hospital; Last place where we meet. None of us held true avail Over how God would greet you....

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She’ll be leaving soon I see The ambulance has arrived, Waiting for another guest To take a long, hard ride. A malicious, microscopic serpent Invaded blood and bones Leaving this sweet young lady Ravaged, scared and ominously alone. Looking out her window now At the roses she planted and pruned Hospice is her final...

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So here we are now together in this eternal circle around death's latest victim in our apartisan lives. We pause, each to invite a quieter humbling access to silent comfort from this ministering circle Each, and together, facing this our inevitable personal frighteningly human, naturally spiritual and inspirationally natural trauma Asking forgiveness from ourselves and each Other in this soon parting Circle, letting go of flawed relationships in which we have...

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His Limbo Soliloquy Actually, I like lockdown....

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I wonder where you are I wonder how you are I wonder if you are still here still there holding on to time the last breath the last smile the last laugh the final time when I wonder are you comfortable is someone caring for you are you bitter are you there are you still there whole counting grudges measuring...

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Round Mudville Market, foul air was omnipresent butchers rent fowls’ necks to make tenant's rent, the scene that was seen was most unpleasant. As sunset fell, we watched through evening light, as Casey mighty Casey held his stout bat tight while striving poet searches to right words write. Seems a southpaw would tear up bravado's montage Casey’s legend scorched by...

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I never got why you always Ate the red pink color out The Sherbet ice cream It was like excavation How you removed all the cherry Without even affecting the other colors Leaving the orange and the vanilla Neatly for others Who does that? Being a poet I used to think that one day That could be a metaphor in some poem Which would take...

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