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Jul 26, 2010 - Poems    No Comments

The Waiting Room


Desk jockeys hover over their PCs
To enter the visits of young and old,
Hoping the sick will cover their sneeze
And not impart that nasty cold.

An elderly woman sits alone,
Waiting her turn for the nurse’s voice
To drown out the monotone
Of whisperers — awaiting their choice.

The old lady wisely tries to keep still,
Or maybe the desk girls over there
Won’t put her chart in the “fill”—
And she’ll have too much time to spare.

Oh, please call me – call me please,
She prays as her bones ache and jerk—
And her nose—well—she’s about to sneeze,
Still they’re at things they cannot shirk.

Finally, when all seems lost and gone,
The room empties out to merely her chair –
Her name is called and now it’s done,
She reaches up and smooths her hair.

–Lois Fowler Barrett © 2006

Jul 26, 2010 - Poems    No Comments

The Beauty Shop


Raising, lowering the beauty shop chair;
Blowing, curling, fixing their hair.
Pitty-pat, pitty-pat – all in place,
A new look on a familiar face.

The ladies sit quiet – no worse for wear;
Never knowing it’s all in the hair.
Do they look any better, they quietly
Yes, they do – it’s worth going under!

–Lois Fowler Barrett © 3/1/2006

Jul 26, 2010 - Poems    No Comments

Special People


They sail in and out—
Fast Clipper Ships—
The young, the middle aged, and older—
Nurses in happy colors,
Tending needs.

The elderly lady waxes
Nostalgic for her past
When she, too, was a
Fast clipper ship.

An Armada of nurses
Silently salute each other
With their eyes as they
Pass in the hall—
No time for chit-chat
And every day matters.

—-Lois Fowler Barrett