Legacy
Legacy
Please note: this post is 124 months old and The Cares Family is no longer operational. This post is shared for information only
Joyce Smith lives in Clissold Park, just in the pocket between Highbury Corner and Stoke Newington. In summer the park gets packed with runners and revellers; in winter, it's a jagged, icy expanse.
Every fortnight for the past few months, one of North London Cares' brilliant young volunteers, Tabitha, has visited Joyce for a cup of tea and a catch-up through our Love Your Neighbour project. It's a great way to get to know your neighbours, as well as the community that's changing every day before our eyes.
In those few months, Tabitha, like so many of NLC's volunteers who get to know their neighbours, has come to build a strong friendship with Joyce. They've sharedconversations about the changing world. And Tabitha's learned that her new friend is a talented poet.
In turn, Joyce really values Tabitha's friendship. On the phone recently, she told us: “I love being with young people. She’s made me more confident using the internet too!”
When Joyce kindly shared her poems with us recently we were touched. They are beautiful, simple, poignant tales about the passage of time and the comodification of community. We're sharing them here with Joyce's permission - and with a selfie taken with Tabitha recently - because they seemed relevant to our changing times, and with the hope that they'll receive a wider audience.
Please read, share and enjoy Joyce's poems - and sign up to volunteer with a neighbour in Camden and Islington if you can.
LONELINESS OF OLD AGE
No familiar faces with whom to speak accustomed words,
Thoughts for sharing now in one memory locked.
Long days sheltering in mists of apathy
On bewildered awareness in a world grown strange.
For the elderly, remembrance is a solace,
When the present is past but recalled.
To live beyond one's time brings only sadness
If the passing years are spent alone.
By Joyce Smith
MY DAILY MAIL
My data now has been passed about
My mail proves this without a doubt
Each missive is pertinent to my age
With useful knowledge on every page
Pamphlets of clothes not meant to flatter
Just to hide you when you're fatter
Handy garments with Velcro added
And pairs of knickers discreetly padded
Roomy shoes for swollen feet
Slippers not pretty but only neat
Lumbar belts for troublesome backs
And support tights in plastic packs
Books on health left at my door
With treatments and remedies by the score
I swallow pills and rub on lotion
But I've yet to find the magic potion
But the unkind letter that wounds the most
And is regularly sent me in the post
Is will I make my funeral plan
And return with payment whilst I can
By Joyce Smith
