In a hospital

Enter a hospital and a cacophony
of sounds assails,
From a nurse’s quick ‘sh’ to a newborn
baby’s wail.

Brr - is when a new mum lies cold in the
operating room and also of a dentist’s drill,

Pit-a-pat of the heart when a doctor takes
your pulse and the rain on the window sill,

Tick tock is heard from the clock in the hall
and the strident stiletto heels of a visitor,

Whee - the sound of the ambulance siren and a
young girl when discharged by her doctor,

Aah - say the proud grandparents at babe’s wide
yawn and you at the prick of the needle,

Aargh - dad jerks in revulsion as he changes dirty
diapers and so do I at the bill from the hospital,
 
Wheeze - is the chain-smoker’s regret, an asthmatic’s
breath and an overloaded hydraulic machine,

Hmm, the doctor looks distracted at a patient’s chart,
and that's my relieved sigh as I leave with a grin.



Image: Naypong / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Oh Dad

My Dad
Born in 1919, dad was in harmony with us
during the flower power of the 60’s
played the harmonica to N K Cole's songs
and strummed the guitar like Elvis
but he didn't find the Beatles endearing
thought they were rather noisy
a friend lent him a projector to play reels
of films for us weekly.



Elvis Presley
Nat King Cole
Leaving us at home he'd go with mum to
watch many a movie
he’d wake us with a plate of fried noodles
incredibly hot and steamy
seeing our woebegone faces he'd entertain
us with songs and melody
as we tapped our feet, mum and he would
dance in perfect symphony.
 

Singing lustily, 'What’s New Pussycat' with
a tiny towel tied low on his hips
he gyrated round mum with a feline look
and a smirk on his lips

while we sat on their bed watching the love
in his eyes gentle and caring
ours misted over with awe, sleep all gone

basking in his loving.

Every Sunday, wearing over-sized shoes I'd
trudge to church faithfully
as I passed dad’s workplace at four, he'd
be waiting for me
here’s 50 cents, he says, on your way back
buy a drink you’ll be thirsty
I took it every week not realizing he had
sacrificed his cup of tea.

 


He built a swing with ropes in our yard
under an umbrella tree
the neighbourhood gathered round and
watched, amazed at his dexterity
I know it will never fall, he declares, but
I’ll test it first for you to see
down came the swing, his sarong and all,
the womenfolk clapped with glee.

 







I noticed that after a year of being in and out
of hospital, his muscular body
that was once a mass of hope, courage, love,
faith, joy and safety
become skeletal, docs were stumped at the
cause of his misery

soon it was time for the angels to come and
give him tranquility.

Now, here he would have been a sprightly old
man in his late eighties
entertaining his grandchildren and all of them
vying to be on his knees
serenading them with lullabies and delighting
them with his stories
but for God’s will, it would have been a happy 
tale for his children’s families.