I am not a nurse

People tell me I look like one

Whatever that means

I hope it alludes to my

Caring, empathetic nature

My tolerance of others’

Less savoury habits

Being an all-round good egg

Always on time and

Well-equipped

With clean cuticles

Kind eyes

And a sympathetic ear

I have my doubts

Hospital corners and bedpans aside

I worry all you see

Is a short skirt

A clipboard

And a pair of sensible shoes

You have to fill in the blanks

Imagine the stockings

Far better to think on

Than the reality of my

Boring old socks…

While I am not one

To knock a good fetish

It is strange how

Blood pressure rises

When you see me

Snap on some marigolds

Ready to get down to business

Doing the washing up

Dressed in blue

At bedtime

I lack the words to describe this feeling

My sense of oneness with you

Who grew out of my flesh

And into this world

Making room for yourself

In our lives as if

You had always been there

On the edge of existence

Just waiting to step out

Into the light

We hold you

Folded tightly in arms

That we now see

Decaying

Withering as those

Of our parents did

Limbs curving

From old embraces

Into a touchless existence

You grow as we shrink

Such is the way

Of the world

But for a moment

I may yet hold you

Suspended in the bliss

Of a mother’s love

You fall to sleep

In my arms

I can pretend

We are still one

Cocooned

In this microcosm