My final home

Moorfield Nursing Home, my final home,
A full circle achieved and I am a child again, to be cared for and nurtured
Yet I need so much more to fan the flame that tickles inside,
A home for having fun.

The world has closed in and the world for us is here
A waiting room
We are in transit reluctant to leave to the unknown world beyond
Wanting to hold on to laughter and music.

We love the music, games and Bingo with the young carers who make us laugh.
Their youth, energy, hope and dreams lighten our weary minds and hearts.

Happy to care for us, undervalued for what they do, for their compassion and patience
They save their money and plan to travel to exotic places, to marry, to have children and in their turn grow old and hope someone will care for them. 

They are strong in their young vigour
Frowning and kindly stating 'We know what is best for you'
When some sad confused soul struggles to leave.
Our job is to keep you well they sing,
Until you collect that telegram from the Queen.

Of course we enjoy the carers,
So pretty and full of life
But what can we do, so dull and routine are the dreg days of the cup of life.
We hold our memories dear, knowing we have lived, but oh for one last adventure, and days to laugh and play.

Poem by Dorothy Sarah Metcalf about life as a resident in a care home.