Goblins and Spanish Lace

Very loosely based on my Grandmothers last years suffering from dementia.....

 

She told stories of witches and goblins,

Smiled at the delight in my face,

Intricate details woven and knitted,

As fine as the best Spanish lace.

 

Faraway lands and unicorns,

And rainbows with battles beneath,

Ogres and giants and elfin white horses,

Palaces made out of teeth.

 

The very last time I saw her,

Dull eyed, confused and in tears,

Wandering hallways, shouting at shadows,

No-one around to hear.

 

Still she told stories of goblins,

No delight in the face of the nurse,

They put her to bed, turned out the light,

Next day they called for the hearse.

 

 

Reviews

[SilentVerses]

An eerie glow of the death of innocent delight as a sanity descends on those society hates lights the words you write, as the lighthearted fall prey to the constraint of the normal a despair flows through your words, when no one believes the words and stories woven and no childish delight will play then the world has fallen ill to the seriousness of a higher perfection, your words depict a sullen and melancholy life, with truth that is brutal yet beautiful.