The Last Dance

We can only ever keep

what we care to give away.

Our only true joy

is the love that we pay

to the soul in need,

in lack and held dear

by us as we take

away their deep fear.

.

It was once my job

to care for the old.

To the weak and sick

it was true love that I sold.

Help to eat,

in and out of bed

A ray of hope for them

with each kind word said.

.

My day in the ward,

soon at its end.

The next team is here,

now my own pain to tend.

But just as I turn

away to walk home,

I hear a man call

to me “love, do come”.

.

A soft hand took mine

as he asks me to play

Over the Bow of Rain,

“Yes sweet one ”, I say

I find the song

by Glen and his band,

I give a kind look

and then my left hand.

.

Slow feet they move

not at all in time,

but I can feel his joy

and calm of mind.

My last task done,

and go now I may.

Sore to bone

from such a long day.

.

The next morn’ I come

into the ward,

to find his bed still

and he says no word.

The dark it took him

into its hold.

His time here done,

his body left cold.

.

His very last prom

was now ever mine

and the gift of my love

with his soul for all time.

In loving memory of a patient I cared for in a dementia care ward. Just as I was leaving this man had become severely distressed. Breaking the rules, I played his favourite song from my phone and he asked to dance. We shared this beautifully sweet moment before he later passed away in sleep. It is a privilege I will never forget and a treasured memory. I dedicate this poem to all carers and nurses who bring peace to distressed souls ✨