So while our art cannot, as we wish it could, save us from wars, privation, envy, greed, old age, or death, it can revitalise us amidst it all.

(Ray Bradbury)

Maturation

Blessed are the elders
Their shattered limbs and fevered brows need healing
From the senescent soreness that they feel
As they experience indisposition or worse
While they seek medicine, words of comfort
Support them through the hours with honour

A saggy bend of knees, unyielding elbows
Palms turned out, prudent-Socratic perspective
The greatest minds throughout the centuries
Are foundation stones where candles burn at night
And hands are laid with understanding
Pensive, reverent amid waving Methuselah trees

The adoration song plays alongside breezes
In climactic praise shedding appreciative tears
A grateful influence from their wisdom, well-versed
Life’s warm adventures gather under serene skies
Showers nurture budding cushions of chrysanthemums

The beams of morning come early at summer solstice
While elders drink coffee in gardens filled with rose mallows
On the deep-delved Earth, the dazzling Hippocrene!
They taught Plutarchian tales, character is simply habit
As the grass, the thicket, the wild pomegranate clustered around

Blessed are those for being perceptive and erudite
There on rocking chairs, where they assemble and participate
In elderly activities and social roles
They are the roots that clutch ‘footprints on the sands of time’
Blessed are elders with their wrinkles, liver spots
Their grey hair, hair loss, and lives captured in black and white

Weekends in Caribbean villas
Dined in destination restaurants discussing global politics
Bring back memories of quondam times
Like a masterpiece from Nicolaes Mae
An old woman dozed by the fireside
Penumbras behind her form her shroud

To my online friends and fans

Stay away, online predators!

(Krystal Volney)

In cyberspace, where connections are made
A world of friends, my heart sways
In virtual networks, we meet when we're far away
Together we dance online, night and day

Your kindness and love, I cannot repay
Your support and cheer, chase the blues away
In this digital realm, you're always near
A sign of hope, my dearest dears

Your words of encouragement, they lift me high
In the depths of my soul, they ignite a fire
With every like, comment, subscription and share
Our bond grows stronger, with nothing else to compare

In this virtual world, we come alive
Our spirits soar, our hearts thrive
We laugh, we cry, we dance and sing
Together we create, our own special thing

So here's to you, my virtual pals
My heartfelt thanks, I give you all
For being there, for being true
My friends in cyberspace, I adore you

Elegy for my uncle Cyril

In memory of my Uncle Cyril Volney who died from a rare brain disease, for Alex Volney, C.J. Volney, and my Aunt-in-law Maryann Volney.

In sorrow's hollow shades, I loved my Uncle Cyril too
He lived a life so nurturing and was a person to look up to
His soul so remarkable, his heart so kind
A brain disease stole him in his prime

In Canada's vast lands, a man of discovery he was where he lived a simple life
Dominica was his home too, a strong survivor of Hurricane Maria, he's now in the afterlife
His personality was lovely, a person who fought evil with light
His wisdom served like the moonlight, in the darkest nights

His calm personality was like the placid seas
He was a great father, brother, cousin, and uncle, a story to be told
His voice was profound, his heart so bold
He had a love for his family at reunions, it never grew old

His soul now dances with angels in beautiful heaven
His memory lives on as he left this world with a nice lasting impression
His spirit is strong, he is remembered for caring for others so freely
He was a man so rare, an individual of glee

But alas, his time on Earth was brief
A cruel destiny, a rare disease
It took his life, in its cold grip
Leaving us behind with memories, so respected and deep

We miss him dearly, we'll hold his pictures and videos tightly
In our hearts, his fatherly love will always glisten brightly
For Uncle Cyril, a genuine man who lived a life so true
This is for him, our adoration will forever shine through

An elegy for Ms. Iris Apfel, a fashionista of old

I never buy what someone says is 'in' or a 'must-have.' I buy what makes me happy.

(Iris Apfel)

An elegy to Iris Apfel, a fashionista of old
Whose spirit and style the world has been told
A model at 97, a designer too
Her outspoken personality, her eyeglasses anew

With oversized frames that, her face so bright
She was a true couture icon of the finest sight
Signed to IMG at 97, her star did shine
Her legacy in fashion, forever divine

Her love for style, a passion so true
She wore her clothes, with a flair anew
Her boldness and grace, a sight to see
A true legend in the fashion world, she'll forever be

At 102, she left this world behind
But her memory, in our hearts, will intertwine
With her eyeglasses, a symbol of her grace
Iris Apfel, a true fashion icon, in her place

In the face of affliction

Since the pandemic, we’ve lost family
And loved ones leaving us broken-hearted
Honour their deaths as we honour experts
And world leaders amid global strife

I’ve seen good people learn to cooperate
Together they avert a deadly fate
Those who refuse to heed authority
Have their own tales to tell

Corporations have lost power
People have lost jobs
Many have been depressed
Many have committed suicide or died

Trapped like poor birds in an infected cage
Living a distant dream
Sacrifice after sacrifice, philanthropists eased
Burdens created in this widening space