
Required to be excavated from where they had gathered,
The house of Dementia, my brain to be ungraved…
For related facts & memories, I scavenged,
Finding little, as mind-detritus accumulated,
I hunted, foraged, but little was garnered,
Many things that couldn’t be recognised,
But, I couldn’t find the mother-load,
Anne Gina came, concentration deflected…
Carer Ejaz arrived, and I had my wounds inspected,
Delicate areas were well-barriered,
Medicines given, my bruised hand was medicated,
Back to the Ode, brain now more fragmented,
Set fact-harvesting, I again wrestled,
But nothing of any use was obtained,
Some unwanted oddities were gleaned…
I had to stop my attempted Ode preparation,
What happened next, I can’t say I was surprised…
I’d lost my plot for this flipping Ode!
I wasn’t traumatised, stressed or agitated,
Maybe just a smidgeon exacerbated?
I’d be delighted if my life could be bedighted!
Friday 1025hrs: Just got as far as here after doing the ad-lib Ode. The nurse is due in about an hour. I think. So I’ll have to rush on and miss bits off.
I’m further behind than ever before.
Blog-wise, and I do love doing it.
How? Not the foggiest, I was in a seizure at the time. No pain until I came out of it, feeling giddy as usual. The feet being full of bodily fluids didn’t help very much at all.
I see a bird and a beast eating it.
TTFNski!