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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