A Portrait of My Lover

This is the way to live, to love, to be.
This is a way to bleed.
This is a way to kill yourself
And give the villain your help.
Standing in his spotlight,
You give him the right to insight
Of what makes you breathe and tick.
This is the way to enjoy the sick.
What would be an easy way
To find an escape… far away?
Surely you don’t want to really flee.
This is the only way to let your lover be.
Try, cry, and die again.
This is the way to your end.
Welcome!

4-14-1994 Thursday
Written by Miss Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: assignment from Creative Writing Class, Spring 1994
Taught by E.P. This particular day E.N. was substituting.

ILLNESS

Not a funny matter.
Some fight to live their lives.
Yet some of you make jokes.
Do you really think that’s nice?
Well I have met a stranger
Who is much more sick than I.
And if her tests are what they think,
It might not be too far till she would die.
So as I sit in misery
Over a sore throat pain,
Let me ask God to help her
Give her rest again.

1-4-1990
written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: Had strep throat. Was given penicillin. Was talking with a man whose wife was also at the ER and really sick. They thought it was her kidneys making her so gravely ill.

Ailing Child

A child is sick with a cold.
His smile has sunk beneath.
He sleeps hours at a time,
Yet really cannot sleep.
Tears form within his eyes
From cold, and feeling sad.
I want to take his aches and pains,
And fill him full of glad.
A nasty cough, a runny nose,
At times he cannot breathe.
He looks at me with agony,
As is to say, “I bleed.”
Give him a little medicine.
Hold him close and long.
Love him through his suffering,
To him help to grow strong.

12-21-1989
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: my little one