Footsteps crunch gravel, shattering my sleep

As I struggle to wake from a slumber so deep

What day is today, is it early or is it late

The postman whistles cheerfully as he opens the gate  

The harsh sound of voices as he calls out a greeting

To the neighbour on her doorstep who has been patiently waiting

The usual comments about today’s weather

As I struggle to gather, my scattered thoughts together


Footsteps sound  louder as he comes to our door

The letter box rattles,the post hits the floor

The dog barks loudly, letting us know he’s on duty

He takes his job very seriously, our protection and security

Protecting his  family, his home and all that

Warning of strangers and that ginger tom cat

The gate slams shut, the hinges in protest scream

Is this real, an illusion, or all just a dream


Slowly I become aware of a dull pain or ache

My muscles groan in protest as they struggle to wake

As I wait for my body and mind to become one

Taking a long time to move is not so much fun

Each day it gets harder and takes longer to rise

I yawn as I stretch and open my eyes

And brush the cobwebs  of the night away

Then I fall out of bed to greet the new day


As I button my shirt my fingers start to fumble

On shaky feet I stagger and stumble

Some days it’s a struggle just to keep my balance

As I shuffle and shake like a puppet at dance

Between dystonia and dyskinesia it can really be tough

Energy for simple tasks I never seem to have enough

But life is about adapting and coping every day

And hope that the postman brought some good news today


C  Denis Murphy 02 May 2016

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