Mr McCormick whacked her with his stick.
His nurse that was.
Didn’t want to be bothered.
He was busy reading the paper.
A political persuasion.
Frustration aggression maybe the theory.
(Michael Rutter, I believe)
A lovely old lady.
Elderly but beautiful as she recanted tales of how she reported how she cavorted and partied when younger.
Such relentless hunger.
With aged joints, she still wants to dance.
Find herself a little romance.
A bit of a rumble,
Potential to tumble.
She lives in a world where all’s risk assessed.
An old bag of bones.
He gave up on all of his food.
He knew what he wanted.
Family all tried to persuade him to eat.
He wanted to meet the old boy upstairs.
Greet the guy at them pearly gates.
Sipped only from an occasional caring cup.
She bade him goodbye as she walked from her shift.
Stood out on the pavement.
Looked close as she she walked away.
Through the open window.
She swore, she saw his spirit leave.