Poems ✍️

11: 26pm, I arrived home moments ago...the ending of very strange and
eventful day. I was asked to write a poem for a very sweet lady, someone I care
for deeply. She looked at me the other day in the hospital and said, can you
write a poem about me, you know my life. I immediately answered, yes of
course, I'll do that for you.

I started that poem a couple of days later and wrote three stanza's, not my usual
way to write, I usually finish what I start but I had some questions, I wanted
answered about her first. Two days later the poem was ready and in early
morning I drove to Staples to have it laminated after pasting one of my favorite
red roses on it.

I wanted the poem delivered today as her operation is booked for tomorrow and
I wanted her to read it prior to the operation. I was pleased with the outcome
and hoped she would like it. My friend was the driver and we headed out in rush
hour to drive across the city in the grueling heat of a car with no air conditioning.
Crazy drivers going in and out of lanes, the slamming of breaks, loud screeching
noises on the way. It was unnerving to say the least. My eyes were like saucers,
though I kept my calm as not to upset my friend and make things worse.

We finally exit Deerfoot Trail and head toward the hospital, a huge, beautiful
building on the outside with its very artistic flare and in my favorite colors of
blues. What a delightful building I remarked and my friend shook her head in
agreement. We entered underground and for the first time, I felt quite uneasy,
as if we were entering a tunnel of doom. I didn't like how I felt at all...she kept
driving through open parking spots and I wondered why, girl just park this dang
car, I'm thinking. Finally she stopped the car and I looked at the car next to me
and there were two men peering into our car. Why did she park here...still I'm
calm but concerned as most women would be...they drove off and we began to
take that long walk to the
entrance.

Upon entering the building, I had a rather eerie feeling and remarked, I don't like
this place. Long corridors, seemed unending, everywhere we looked, there were
large doors. You had to swipe the black square in order for the door to open, ok
no big deal there. We walked so far and then it dawned on me, we left the poem
in the car. I stopped and exclaimed, oh nooo and my friend immediately turned
around and said 'the poem'. She told me to sit on one of the cold, uninviting
couches and wait for her, placing her purse beside me, she got on the elevator.
A long while later, she returned and had gotten lost looking for her car.

We once again began to walk toward the elevators and entered one, there were a
set of three, we took the one on the far right. After the doors closed, we
experienced a rather pungent odor, it was horrendous and I knew, it was the
scent of 'death'...Oh my imagination began to soar, where the heck are we. The
doors opened and a man dressed like a doctor walked on, well that certainly
seemed normal. My friend noticed there was no floor number three and she was
concerned. She asked him, excuse me, can you tell me why there isn't a floor
number three. He looked at her with a blank look on his face and then began to
purse his lips, pushed his chin forward and shook his head while saying, I don't
know, I never take these elevators and now he's outwardly laughing and still
shaking his head. He arrived at his floor and walked off, while my friend was still
trying to talk to him. He turned again and stared with that fiend kind of look
and let out a rather hairy sound of laughter and quickly walked away. I looked
at my friend in dismay, she raised her hands, not knowing what to do.

In seconds, we arrived at another floor and a very tall, blond lady walked on. I
stood by her side, she had a rather stern look on her face and my friend
questioned her as well. I'm growing more nervous by the second and I'm
questioning where are we, what have we gotten ourselves into. I think we have
crossed over but when. We arrived I thought safely at the hospital with no
accident so what happened, are we still on earth. She gazed at me when I dared
to laugh with that nervous tension building up inside, my throat dry and my lips
sticking to my tongue, I'm getting scared now. You don't belong here she
remarked, you are not allowed on these elevators. I asked her, are we really
here, she continued to gaze at me. You need to get off of these elevators, do
you understand, you don't belong here. At that point, I knew I didn't want to ask
about the horrid stench. I knew then we were beside the morgue and the odor
was formaldehyde. I didn't need to be told twice, I wanted off 'NOW'...She was
wraithlike, I knew she was dead and roaming the hospital intimidating the
visitors. Who let her out, I know they're looking for her. We got off the
elevators and I wanted away from this

vampirish woman. My friend kept getting directions from her and I kept saying
thank you and bowing my head while walking backward.

We didn't listen to a word she said, we continued to wander looking for the
proper elevators. Finally the receptionist decided to acknowledge that we were
standing in front of her needing help. She looked like she needed a blood
transfusion. I stepped back and wanted to run out of that hospital, but I had to
deliver the poem. My heart is racing and I'm asking myself, did you take your
blood pressure pills today. Yes I remembered taking them, we are now on the
correct elevators, deep breath. We're both bemused as we arrive at floor
number three. Off we go and ask for the room number of the patient. The
receptionist seemed a little off but finally was able to direct us through the huge
set of doors. My friend cautions me to wash my hands again and I go through
the motions, weary, scared and tired after such a long, long walk.

Finally we find the cubby hole with three walls and no windows, where our
beautiful patient is sitting on the bed, distraught with saddened eyes. She
explains the horror she feels inside and can't stop talking about her discontent.
After several moments, I decide, it's a good time to present her with the poem
which took over an hour to get through the hospital into her hands. She focused
on the poem and I felt like a school girl waiting for my marks after an important
test. But what took place, shocked me, she began to weep, I looked over at my
friend who was sitting on the other side and called her name, wanting her to act,
do something I thought. My friend stood up and tried to softly talk to her, she
placed the poem in front of her, took her glasses off and apologized to me,
explaining how horrible she feels in there and the tears were falling and falling
while she kept trying to wipe them away. I didn't know what to say, she cried
awhile, then put her glasses back on and finished reading the poem. She then
beckoned me over and hugged me and kissed my cheek, thanking me for her
release. She said the poem gave her the release she needed to make her feel
better about the situation she was in. I knew then why I had that urgent feeling
of getting it to her.

My friend mentioned the obstacles we went through while trying to bring the
poem to her. I realized it too and knew we made it through some unknown
darkness, but still, many questions are at hand. Who wanted to detain us and
why, we left after hugs and kisses and ended up in a forbidden area, walking
every which way and couldn't find an exit. A loud voice asked, what are you
doing here, are you lost. We turned and saw a heavy set gentleman standing
with his hands on his waist. How did you get in here, he asked and my quit
witted friend answered, I swiped my hand over the box and the door opened.
With a harsh voice he explained how to leave the hospital. His eyes were
mysterious, a ghastly individual. He didn't resemble a hospital person at all. I
think his day job might revolve around collecting items for sale at a rather grim
location, indeed he reminds me of mungo person, having the characteristics of a
real jerk.

That was my day folks...Melvina