The kettle hums a familiar tune,

But why does the sun hang so low when it is high noon,

Whilst shadows stretch across the wall,

Why is she here, she can’t recall.

A name once sweet upon her tongue,

Whilst she looks at a photo, like a song half sung,

The name of the person, just beyond her reach,

A lesson lost that life won’t re-teach.

Her garden waits, the gate ajar,

A terrible sight, how bizarre,

She walks a path she has known for years,

It now feels foreign, wrapped in terror and fears.

A smile it breaks, there is a familiar face,

She knows she knows but the words she can’t embrace,

Then panic flickers in her eyes,

Her heart is crushed whilst her memory lies.

They call it early, cruel and sly,

A thief of memory beneath a clear blue sky,

It steals before life’s twilight hush,

That turns her world to a jumbled mush.

But still moments bloom into dim lit light,

Then the map of memories fades out of her sight,

A feeling a laugh a tender touch a fleeting name,

The soul within is dying, it’s such a shame.

So hold her hand when times get tough,

She will not know who you are but that’s enough,

Whilst hours melt and drift away,

It is your love that will always stay.