A Terminal Life -- by Pam Miller

The man is dying, outside my door
Slowly, inching towards death, with his time slipping away
As he visits his doctors and returns to work bloated
And pallid with fingers like pink sausages,
Skin as fragile as flower petals,
And stories of tests and treatments
And small victories
Each day alive a hard-won gain
He smiles and chats with us,
Doing his work cheerfully, moving slowly
Discounting his ominous terminality and choosing
To live with optimism for each
Small success and promising treatment
And we chat with him and ask polite, conventional questions,
Carefully ignoring the looming future.

Dolly and Kitty - by Pam Miller

I am so happy, this bright, shining day
For Dolly and Kitty are coming to play.
I’m baking fresh cookies and setting out tea
For Kitty and Dolly are visiting me.
I’ve laid the playdresses out on their beds,
And the hats that they both like to wear on their heads.
The birds are all singing, the sky is bright blue,
The roses are heavy and sparkling with dew,
The sweet smell of honeysuckle hangs in the air,
And Dolly and Kitty won’t have a care.
Oh, No! that’s the phone, and now I am sad,
For Kitty’s been naughty and Dolly was bad.
They wouldn’t stop fighting and can’t come to play,
So I sadly start putting the cookies away.

Life and Health... a pinch of salt

What am I willing to do to remain healthy? I guess a lot, because I've been through cancer surgery and having a partial knee replacement to prolong my life. I think I've reached the best part of my life, where I can start to do things I enjoy just because I enjoy them. My responsibilities are fewer now, because my most important work of raising my children is done. They turned out even better than I could have expected, and are both very interesting and successful people. I'm thrilled for them, and I'm really thrilled to have my grandchildren to love. Life around them is chaotic and joyful and I just enjoy it to the hilt. Both kids married very nice people who are devoted to their kids and spouses, so I'm quite relaxed and confident that my grandchildren are in very good hands.

Now occasionally I write poems. I did that in my early 20's too, and I'm not sure why I stopped. Maybe I can find some of the old poems and post them here, plus the new ones too. They're just about my life and the people around me. I like them, but you'll have to judge for yourself. I've been chided for them not being joyful, but I guess that why I like them is because for me they ring true. Maybe in spite of my joyful optimism there's a morose side to my character that comes out in the poems? A mouthful of sugar is too sweet. To make a tasty cake you need sugar, flour, eggs, milk... and a pinch of salt.