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There are bangles on her forearms she has rings on every finger,
a frangipani in her hair the fragrance will not linger.
Tops and blouses, silk chiffon her skirts are full and flowing,
her sense of fashion obvious her wardrobe overflowing
She knows not where it is she is the time of day or season,
dementia is the cause of this there is no other reason
Her clothing and her fashion bring to her a source of joy,
contentment in her troubled world distractions, or a ploy
Dementia cuts the cruellest path but cannot touch the spirit,
we learn somehow to compensate it’s easy though to fear it
She’s trapped inside her body but her soul is there above us,
with empathy we’ll meet her needs because we care, for Lovace.
John Sullivan 2013