Twas the first day of autumn – on a Friday it came,
The call to say that nothing would
ever be the same.
Already the sky was a dark sombre
grey,
There was no moon rising over Walpole
Bay.
Once they had lives, young spirits by
the sea,
They danced in the ballrooms in true
harmony.
Now they stay in their rooms – they
can lay there all day,
They don’t see the moon at the top of
the bay.
Can’t get out of my chair – no, don’t
wash my hair,
Independence retracted – it’s so hard
to bear.
I was very much in love; have the
pictures of the day,
Hand in hand neath the moonlight at
Walpole Bay.
Memories of the war, so vivid – so
real,
But nothing much momentary; the
magpies – they steal.
Imaginary phone calls, so much news
to convey,
“Well I heard that the moon had just
run away!”
Dementia is cloying, destroying with
pain,
Its tentacles clawing the heart of
the brain.
Creeping and crawling, surreptitious
its way,
Darkening the moon over every damn
bay.
Trying to escape – when I have, let me in,
I wonder what lives in the end we’d
begin.
But once I was the sharpest – yes,
back in the day,
When the moon was so vibrant at
Walpole Bay.
So tell me what is not and what is
surreal,
And what do you expect, how am I s’posed
to feel?
Locked in my mind with my body as
hay,
And the olde moon cryin’ at the crest of the bay.
And the constant beep beeping,
screams and the wails,
This is what happens when the system fails…
We didn’t know why, but you begged us
to stay,
With the moon turning red, sinking in
to the bay.
The trickster is time, and you
prophesized your fate,
To us in denial – who forever would
wait.
But the kindness is letting go, what
words left to say?
Cept “the full moon is shimmering on
the waves of the bay.”
Black and white photographs – how
perfect they seemed,
In the prime of their lifetimes,
their hopes and their dreams.
When picnics and laughter and love
held the sway,
And the moon did a tango at Walpole
Bay.
Oh how I wish – we’d go back there
and sing,
When life was much simpler and you
still had your rings.
Remember the prom and the warm golden
rays?
When at sunset the moonrise, lit up ALL
the bays!
The history of that town, well it
came and it passed,
And you took the summer – we knew it
couldn’t last.
We loved you back then and we love
you today,
And the moon still he quivers in that
magical way.
I saw you last night – you were
speaking to me,
A beautiful angel, liberated and
free.
Knew it was a miracle, you said “Don’t
worry, OK?”
“The moon’s glowing high in the sky ‘bove
the bay.”
They say nothing’s forever, but on
the timeline you stand,
One magnificent star with your man and
the band.
Like a flower so radiant, always beautiful
you’ll stay,
As the moon shines again over Walpole Bay.
by Jayl De Lara - November 2019
In memory of Betty Irene Glass (née Huxtable) – ‘Mum’ 1927 - 2019