A poem about my mother who is still in hospital after a fall at home.

I wonder what goes through mum’s head

Has she just lays there in her bed.

She’s been there now for fourteen weeks.

Her mind half wanders when she speaks.

 

 She tripped upon the kitchen mat

  Went right over and laid flat.

 She lay there for an hour or more

Before the paramedics reached her door

 

They took her in and fixed her hip

That she had broken in her slip

And even put her on a drip

Then put her in a bed to kip

 

Now fourteen weeks have passed today

She should be well healed, and out to play

But seems she is in bed to stay

Poor mum why are you not well today?

 

I know your age, it is a factor.

You’ll never be fit to drive a tractor

But walk you should, if you are able

Or at least, you should sit at a table.

 

So come on mum get out of bed

Please use your legs, the doctor said

If you just try, it can be done

But I guess you’ve just given up the gun.

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