Tomorrow’s Child.

Tomorrow’s  Child.

The old man sat in the shade

His life time memories beginning to fade

On his face, no emotions are betrayed

While out in the sunshine his grandchildren played

Chasing fluttering butterflies in excitement and glee

Searching for ladybirds and caterpillars, so innocently

Their chatter and laughter fills the air

As he sits like a rag doll, tossed in his chair

Watching from beneath an old battered straw hat

Alone in his thoughts except for the old cat

Who was curled up by his feet, lost in a dream

Of catching mice and saucers of cream

The occasional calls of grandpa – come look at this old nest

Do not seem to register, or capture his interest

Or penetrate the fog and the mist in his mind

It’s as if he is under a spell off some kind

Or in another world or far off place 

Another dimension or time in space

His daughter glances up from her gardening book

And takes a longer, more concerned look

Wipes away a brimming tear

As she tries to hold down the growing  fear

That sooner than later she will face the day 

That her father is slowly drifting away

She remembers when she was the child

He taught  her everything he knew about the wild

When she held his hand on those country walks

And listened in awe to his fascinating talks

Now their roles reversed, she has become the parent

While he can no longer tell the past from the present

C. Denis Murphy 26 August 2021.

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