A poem

Thank you to Alan Powell for this poem:

 

We are a motley bunch of folk, who meet up once a week

Take tea and talk together, to find the answers that we seek

We are a group of carers, with someone in our life

That needs the help we give them, be it mother, daughter, husband, wife

We know as ‘carers’, someone stuck us with that label

But really only normal guys, doing the best we are able

 

I did not choose to be a carer, it happened slowly I suppose

A gradual transformation, as each new pressing need arose

It started with the shopping, then hanging washing on the line

Taking on more housework, help with showers and dressing, both arrived in time

It’s not for public plaudits, or nice things that people say

And when things get more demanding, we do not turn away

 

I am not a Godly man, who stands with faith unshaken

I am just a worldly bloke, standing by the vows he’s taken

‘For better or worse, whether poor or rich, in health and sickness giving

To cherish and care, with no other there, as long as we are both living

It’s not for approbation or blessings from above

We do what we do, what we need to do, for honour, hope and love

 

 

 

If you wold like to contribute any writing or thoughts to our website or newsletter, please contact Emma Keef on 01904 715490 or emma.keef@yorkcarerscentre.co.uk