Simple things.

Digital imageDigital imageHere’s a picture of my holly wreaths I’m busy making for our lovely customers in the shop.

We’ve put our tree up now, it’s covered in snow and covered in white lights.  I want to dedicate this post to all homeless people.  I couldn’t imagine not being able to come home to our loved ones and have a cosy fire and warm food.

A homeless man in Totnes, Devon died last night.  He’d been offered accomodation, but refused it as he had been living on the street for so long and didn’t want to move from the town he was in.  How sad to be alone and have nowhere to live.  The angels who give up their time and energy to give out soup and sandwiches to street people need to be in our thoughts this time of year as well.

We seem to be in a Dickensian period again, with rich people at one end of the scale, then homelessness, food banks and poverty at the other end.  With this post I’m sending prayers to all homeless people, hoping they find some comfort this season.  To the people who give them a warm drink, food and a friendly smile, special thoughts for them too.

Here’s a poem I wrote after visiting a seaside resort, and seeing an old lady.  It made me shudder to see her.

 

FEAR.

I fear the old woman

surrounded by bags;

Who sits on a bench

In layers of rags,

Watching the sea

In a trance.

Far away in

Another place,

Reminiscing of a time

When she meant something

To somebody.

Layers of clothes

Tied up with string,

Like a parcel that

Wasn’t delivered, nobody wanted.

Expressionless, emotionless.

She doesn’t see or hear;

Except for the sea

Sparkling clearly,

Reminding her, showing

That she holds dearly.

I fear the old woman

In layers of clothes,

Who sits on a bench

Watching the sea.

Someone’s mother,

someone’s wife,

Whatever happened

In her life,

Ending up, watching the sea.

As I walk past

I shudder inside,

I could be her,

She could be me.

That lonely old woman

Wrapped up in rags.

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Author: susanjanejones

I write articles and short stories, and this year I've become a pocket novelist for my weekly.

21 thoughts on “Simple things.”

  1. That is a lovely heartfelt poem, Sue and a great post. The levels of poverty in this country now are shocking. I always hoped when my children were small that the world would be a better place when they grew up, but it just seems to be getting worse x

    1. Thanks for popping by Teresa, I’ll never forget that old lady. Part of me wanted to give her a hug and chat, but I felt so frightened and couldn’t think why. It was only later when I wrote the poem I realised that I was afraid of being like that. Nobody should live like that should they?

  2. So sad that a lot of homeless people don’t know where they can get help or – like the man you mentioned – refuse to accept help. My husband and I started buying the Big Issue from one of the sellers in our nearest town and over the months we’ve got to know him quite well. He’s had a lot of problems in the past but, with the help of the Big Issue, he seems to be making a real effort to turn his life around.

  3. I did read about this poor man! Terrible.

    I think your poem is just lovely – full of sorrow and very thought-provoking! Take care
    x

  4. Hi Kitty, great that you’ve popped by. Life is hard for some people isn’t it? We moan sometimes but I feel quite lucky to snuggle up and watch a film with a bag of choccies. You take care too.xx and Charliexx

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