Loneliness, the word’s not strong enough
For widows and their masculine counterparts.
Ripped in half, that’s more the phrase; like, tough.

No arms left now, that never will rebuff.
No eager lips which whispering love impart
Loneliness, the word’s not strong enough

People say, of course, the going’s rough
The coming’s gone and nothing shall gestate
Ripped in half, that’s more the phrase; like, tough.

Never more to share cartoons and laughs.
Never more to be a chosen mate
Loneliness, the word’s not wrong enough.

Did we know the heart of what we had?
Did we learn the art of love. of fate?
Ripped in half, that’s more the phrase; like, tough.

You have gone and closed now is the gate
In a mad ball, I dance with love and hate
Loneliness, the word’s not strong enough!
Ripped in half, that’s more the phrase; like, tough.

Mary was not with Annie.She had been arrested She had tried to order a Spanish Omelette in

a Chinese restaurant The owner had suffered shock on hearing Mary’s voice and had passed out.

Did you hope to injure this man?

Of course not.I was very hungry so I sounded urgent.

You nearly wet yourself,the policeman said

How can you nearly wet yourself she murmured like a thunderstorm on Hellvellyn.

Either you wet or you don’t wet, she continued.

As far as others see.but you may have had to use those muscles to control your bladder.

I suppose that could be measured but is it worth it?

No, said the man.better to use it to buy a book.

So who is your favourite author

Tim Parkes he been informed her.

Who is yours?

I shall let you know

And so shall all of us.

I read that people who have dementia may be in a place where they are not receiving enough attention,

And it’s true

I see the underlying belief namely that we are in control of our speech and behaviour despite that we know how people react must be linked to where they live and which part of their country they live in

You call it the context of their life and we are all affected by this.People trapped in Ukraine will have feelings different from ours in the UK

It’s a bit like the frame of a picture.Some make it look much better.

That’s how retiring from work we enjoy can make us feel like a different person.

So we may need to do new things and maybe meet new people to build a structure again

I meant to comment on demented people shouting

It’s not all their fault it’s their context.

Anyone at all might shout if they endured the situation of these sufferers.

It also occurs to me that what other people do we think they do deliberately but judging outselves we we are kinder as we know fatigue, grief,getting out of the wrong side of the bed can make us say or do thoughtless things

.

Power is at the root of it and they have so little power except being a nuisance

I notice some have penetrating voiced and uncanny crying like a baby with an adult larynx

There was one in the hospital but the voice had no individuality.They each sound like the others.

Can it be the animal cry that

predates speech? 

I heard one say to a nurse

If only I could be normal for one  hour

Katherine 4 May 2022

My heart is a butterfly with no wings

My heart is a Jenny wren with no songs

My heart is larger than the world

My heart knows stories never told.

Do not leave me with no words

Come to me,we shall not share.

Poor Annie had fallen out of the apple tree where she saw Emile chewing some smoked haddock stolen from her basket.

Emile looked down from the highest branch

Are you alright he mewed.

I don’t know she muttered.I am in shock.

I’d better ring 999 and get Dave.

Without waiting he ran down the apple tree into the hall.

He phoned 999 and soon the ambulance will arrive.

Where will Annie be taken?

Who will look after her?

And where is Mary her best friend

Will she get better?

Find out in the next chapter if you pay £50 to The Red Cross by the time the next part is written.

Can’t wait

Chapter 2. Was their voice too loud?

Chapter 3. Are other people real or mere servants of your fantasies?

What to wear when you are dumb

.A new book by your favourite author

There is no humour when the world’s at War .

The guns they use are no child’s little toy

The freshness of spring air soothes human souls

Except there is a war where Russia fights

So our happy feelings can’t take hold

Though late,spring air does soothe our anxious souls

Mr Putin’s mind is very cold.

In nothing nature does can he delight

Soft the sunny air on stricken souls

The freshness of spring air soothes human souls

Except for a grave war old Russians fights