I Speak For Nurses Worldwide

By Audrey Ardern-Jones

Who in summer suns under burning skies

hold hands of the dying despite the sores

Who in fog-grey mists of locked-up wards

talk gently to the confused, the paranoid

who unclip, clip, check and check again

the mystical noises of the hospital gadgets

who speak in soft sounding ocean voices

soothing the secrets of unconscious minds

who in the rush of busy early mornings

visit newborns and the homebound sick

who guard the cot sides of a fevered child

catching dragonflies by the garden pond

who tuck in safely an old lady, she thinks

she’s picking buttercups on her sheet

I speak for nurses worldwide who honour

nurse heroines of their day, of any day

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