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A Mindful Reminder


You left me empty, frightened and alone
I had no place to run to, no safety I could call home
The joy that was a part of me lies crying on the floor
I step inside my sadness, my little black door

I felt my life was on a stage with blackness all around
I tried to fly on broken wings yet I could not leave the ground
I screamed a scream that no-one heard
Please open this prison and free this bird

Tears all dried up there is nothing left
A heart turned to stone empty and bereft
I run through a grassy field trying to break free
Where can I find you, where is me

Yet here I am I did survive
I escaped the torture the insidious lies
Little by little I will become whole
I will be the Master of my fragmented soul
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“The intuitive mind is a sacred gift, and the rational mind its faithful servant. 
We have created a society that honours the servant and has forgotten the gift.” – Albert Einstein

My father was diagnosed with dementia in his early seventies, and sadly passed away in 2012 with dementia related illnesses. The hardest part of this illness is losing the ability to remember and communicate. There are many articles written on how to communicate with someone who has dementia, however, I have often found myself wondering if those we know and love with dementia could communicate, what would they say.

In remembering my father, and for all those people who cope with this cruel disease in all its forms on a daily basis, I have penned this poem which I hope will bring comfort and understanding.


Hidden Meanings

I cannot remember yesterday, it’s a vast space of emptiness where words used to exist.

Clutching at fragments of sentences lying buried under a jumble of meanings which has now become my mind, I’m lost.

Was that a look of pity I saw on your face for just a fraction of a second, followed by a sigh so soft it almost escaped my notice, but not quite.

How the sorrows of other times come running in to haunt me, how vivid those memories which I have suppressed for so long, wanting to forget, yet never really trusting the enemy which is my mind to do my bidding.

When did the books I so love to read never get finished. Their pages become corridors littered with verbs and adjectives I do not understand, must I rewrite the ending in my imagination where I do not need words to express myself.

If I take a nap try to understand I am merely recharging my batteries in preparation for the next round of shadows, playing in the recesses of my memory.

The past has now become my future, I almost enjoy re-visiting my childhood – almost. I will not give in to this cruelty they call dementia. I only forgot two things yesterday, where I lived and who you were.

I do not want to scare you, I love you far too much for that. I intend to hold on with all my might to everything I hold dear, only please remember when you look at me that I’m still here.  


Great progress has been made in finding a cure for dementia, however to date it is still in the testing phases. Understanding the many facets of this disease, not only from a medical point of view, will  take away the fear enabling us to find those hidden meanings through love, empathy and patience, giving us hope for a brighter tomorrow.
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A morning sky tinged with blue black clouds and a promise of rain
My footsteps quicken as I reach the park and there you were
Like burnished copper on a carpet of green, you cover the ground
Waiting patiently to be lifted and swirled
As the naked branches of your trees reach out to keep their falling leaves

Bright golden drifts invite me to play
And as I scatter you afar, you rustle, creating your own music
Swirls of colour kissing droplets of rain
A gentle breeze softly carries you in natures dance
And all my cares fade away like Autumn leaves      
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I wrote this poem as a tribute to the wonderful years I had in Italy.

A soft warm breeze played around my ankles
As my bare feet felt the heat of summer on the well-worn grassy path
The scent of hazy days hung in the air – enticing
I smiled as I came upon you
In the midst of a sea of yellow
Glorious sunflowers whose petals reach out craving attention

I rushed to join you; to dance amongst you
My carefree limbs twirling as the trace of a breeze kissed my face
I stand and marvel, drinking in your scent, savouring every moment
Experiencing this feeling of endless joy and pleasure
Where the beauty of life is omnipresent in this field of entrancing sunflowers
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Eyes scanning the crowd
Expectant, yet wary
Clutching the fading blooms
Your smile completes the facade
Just one pitiful sale
The difference between life and death

Memories of the border crossing
The pain of your mothers’ goodbye
You pull her memory around you
Like an old familiar blanket
As you walk in quiet trepidation
Feeling emptiness in tow

You show the courage born of loss
A strength that defies the pain
Lifting your head to gaze at the sky
You pray for a little soul needing to go home
Another eight year old angel
With broken wings
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Let everyone who has passed this way
Be accountable for each day
Save our rainforests so we all can breathe
Rein in pollution before you leave
Do not let man’s destruction create a world of stone
Once again let our earth be a place we can call home
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As part of this blog, I've decided to create a Poetry Corner in which I can express feelings, emotions and comforting words. I would also like to invite others to contribute and submit their own work. I wrote this poem - titled Echoes - as a tribute to the memories I have of my Mother. It conjures up feelings of warmth, security and love. I hope others can connect in a meaningful way to the words.

Reaching into forgotten places, searching
That familiar tilt of your head, captured in the fading photo
Your gaze rests on the yellowing keys of the piano
Where I picked up the fallen notes of your favourite piece
In a dance to the rhythm of our understanding

Those myriad depths of imperfection you feathered with your love
Cast wilful shadows at the windows,
My unfinished sentences once hanging in the air
Have been relegated to sit in the folds of your wrap
Enfolding me, warm and forgiving

Your favourite cup plays host to the taps reassuring drip
The pattern of untamed wild roses ramble like recalcitrant children
Who tested your patience, yet you loved the beauty of their petals 
And understood their hidden thorns
I pull my memories around me, savouring the moment
Where your essence touched my soul
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About Me

Welcome. My name is Lorna Lamon. I am a qualified counsellor with a passion for helping others overcome and understand the complexities of their mental health. My aim is to bring awareness to mental issues and offer guidance and support for those who struggle.

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Blog Archive

  • ▼  2018 (16)
    • ▼  April (8)
      • Breaking Down Those Break-ups
      • Criticism - The Good, The Bad, The Ugly
      • Poetry Corner - My Fragmented Soul
      • The Psychological Fear of Failure
      • Hidden Meanings
      • Crying Is Therapeutic
      • Poetry Corner - Autumn Leaves
      • The Soul Mate Theory
    • ►  March (8)

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