No 240       November 12


I have a friend called Eunice,

I’ve known for sixty years,

She now has dementia,

To see her brings a tear.


I cannot go and visit,

She wouldn’t even know,

She knitted jumpers for my kids,

And for her children I would sew.


She’d to send her husband into a home,

It was with great regret,

It broke her heart to do it,

Then all she did was fret.


One day after she’d been visiting,

She was walking down the drive,

When suddenly she was lifted up,

By nurses who had just arrived.


She said what are you doing,

From my husband I’ve just come away,

“Oh no, you’re going back in there,

That’s what they always say.


When she came and told me,

She complained about the staff,

It shows what good friends we have been,

When all I did was laugh.