# General > Literature >  An Old Lady's Poem

## jings00

An Old Lady's Poem

What do you see, nurses,
what do you see?
What are you thinking
when you're looking at me?

A crabby old woman,
not very wise,
uncertain of habit,
with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles her food
and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice,
"I do wish you'd try!"

Who seems not to notice
the things that you do,
and forever is losing a
stocking or shoe.....

Who, resisting or not,
lets you do as you will,
with bathing and feeding,
the long day to fill....

Is that what you're thinking?
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse;
you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am
as I sit here so still,
as I do at your bidding,
as I eat at your will.

I'm a small child of ten ....
with a father and mother,
brothers and sisters,
who love one another.

A young girl of sixteen,
with wings on her feet,
dreaming that soon now
a lover she'll meet.

A bride soon at twenty --
my heart gives a leap,
remembering the vows
that I promised to keep.

At twenty-five now,
I have young of my own,
who need me to guide
and a secure happy home.

A woman of thirty,
my young now grown fast,
bound to each other
with ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons
have grown and are gone,
but my man's beside me
to see I don't mourn.

At fifty once more,
babies play round my knee,
again we know children,
my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me,
my husband is dead;
I look at the future,
I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing
young of their own,
and I think of the years
and the love that I've known.

I'm now an old woman ....
and nature is cruel;
'Tis jest to make old age
look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles,
grace and vigor depart,
there is now a stone
where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass
a young girl still dwells,
and now and again,
my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys,
I remember the pain,
and I'm loving and living
life over again.

I think of the years ....
all too few, gone too fast,
and accept the stark fact
that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people,
open and see,
not a crabby old woman;
look closer ..see ME!!

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## Funky_Foal

Great poem jings00 !!!

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## footie chick

Absolutly Brilliant!!

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## jings00

Not written by my fair hand though, it was forwarded on to me by my sister, but I thought it was touching.

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## dragonfly

good one Jings00 knew you had a soft side!!  ::

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## jings00

ha ha ha, shhhh don't tell anyone!!

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## bingo1

This poem in beautiful.... It brought a tear to me as it made me think of my grandmother who at the moment is failing. She wanders around the house, looses things, forgets what she has already said and she goes so deep into thought. She has told me many a story of her young life. She had some very hard sad times but she survived and and although old she is happy. Somedays she is scared other days happy and full of life. But i guess old age it comes to us all.

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## jings00

It does indeed come to us all. I don't know what to say about your post, it must be hard to see family "failing" like that.

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## bingo1

> It does indeed come to us all. I don't know what to say about your post, it must be hard to see family "failing" like that.


Yes it is. That poem it makes sense and helps.

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## Billy Boy

ooo that made my stoney heart flutter.brilliant ::

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## Davie MacLeod

Hope you don't mind, this was written by a nurse in reply.
Nurse's Response 
TO CRABBIT OLD WOMAN

What do we see, you ask, what do we see? 
Yes, we are thinking when looking at thee! 
We may seem to be hard when we hurry and fuss, 
But there's many of you, and too few of us. We would like far more time to sit by you and talk, 
To bath you and feed you and help you to walk. 
To hear of your lives and the things you have done; 
Your childhood, your husband, your daughter, your son. 
But time is against us, there's too much to do - 
Patients too many, and nurses too few. 

We grieve when we see you so sad and alone, 
With nobody near you, no friends of your own. 
We feel all your pain, and know of your fear 
That nobody cares now your end is so near. 

But nurses are people with feelings as well, 
And when we're together you'll often hear tell 
Of the dearest old Gran in the very end bed, 
And the lovely old Dad, and the things that he said, 
We speak with compassion and love, and feel sad 
When we think of your lives and the joy that you've had. 

When the time has arrived for you to depart, 
You leave us behind with an ache in our heart. 
When you sleep the long sleep, no more worry or care, 
There are other old people, and we must be there. 
So please understand if we hurry and fuss - 
There are many of you, and too few of us.

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## Billy Boy

> Hope you don't mind, this was written by a nurse in reply.
> Nurse's Response 
> TO CRABBIT OLD WOMAN
> 
> What do we see, you ask, what do we see? 
> Yes, we are thinking when looking at thee! 
> We may seem to be hard when we hurry and fuss, 
> But there's many of you, and too few of us. We would like far more time to sit by you and talk, 
> To bath you and feed you and help you to walk. 
> ...


what a lovely poem  brought a tear to my eye

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## dirdyweeker

Always loved this poem of the 'crabbit old lady' Makes you stop and think if you are looking after the elderly. It can be hard sometimes to remember that they too once were young and enjoying life. Love the reply. Very true to life.

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## Lavenderblue2

I have had this poem in my possession for many years now and the following is apparently the explanation of its origin:-

It appeared when the old lady died in the geriatric ward of Ashludie Hospital near Dundee, that she had left nothing of any value. Then the nurse going through her possessions found this poem. The quality of it impressed the staff so much that copies were duplicated and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
 When one of the nurses 25 year old Bertha Rainey moved to nurse geriatric patients in Braid Valley Hospital Ballymena she took her copy with her and the poem----- the old ladies bequest to posterity--------has since appeared in a Christmas edition of the Beacon House News magazine of the Northern Ireland Association for Mental Health, and also in Barrow Hospitals  'The Barrow Broadsheet'.

I loved your 'nurses reponse' Davie - I will keep it along ith the original.

LB

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## weefee

> I have had this poem in my possession for many years now and the following is apparently the explanation of its origin:-
> 
> It appeared when the old lady died in the geriatric ward of Ashludie Hospital near Dundee, that she had left nothing of any value. Then the nurse going through her possessions found this poem. The quality of it impressed the staff so much that copies were duplicated and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
> When one of the nurses 25 year old Bertha Rainey moved to nurse geriatric patients in Braid Valley Hospital Ballymena she took her copy with her and the poem----- the old ladies bequest to posterity--------has since appeared in a Christmas edition of the Beacon House News magazine of the Northern Ireland Association for Mental Health, and also in Barrow Hospitals 'The Barrow Broadsheet'.
> 
> I loved your 'nurses reponse' Davie - I will keep it along ith the original.
> 
> LB


i was going to mention that too, i believe that the woman had had a stroke and was unable to speak but still wrote poetry but it wasn't discovered until she had passed.....beautiful poem.....

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## Fran

In loving memory of a lady I was very close to and loved very much, who died last night 






I'll tell you who I am
as I sit here so still,


I'm a small child of ten ....
with a father and mother,
brothers and sisters,
who love one another.

A young girl of sixteen,
with wings on her feet,
dreaming that soon now
a lover she'll meet.

A bride soon at twenty --
my heart gives a leap,
remembering the vows
that I promised to keep.

At twenty-five now,
I have young of my own,
who need me to guide
and a secure happy home.

A woman of thirty,
my young now grown fast,
bound to each other
with ties that should last.

At forty, my young ones
have grown and are gone,
 Now its just me and my lovely wee dog.


At fifty once more,
babies play round my knee,
again I know children,
all loved by me 

Dark days are upon me,
my husband is dead;
I look at the future,
I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing
young of their own,
and I think of the years
and the love that I've known.

I'm now an old woman ....
and nature is cruel;
.

The body, it crumbles,
grace and vigor depart,
there is now a stone
where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass
a young girl still dwells,
and now and again,
my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys,
I remember the pain,
and I'm loving and living
life over again.

I think of the years ....
all too few, gone too fast,
and accept the stark fact
that nothing can last.

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