Keep Thinking

 Making Sense

Oh, how I wish that I could see

That voice which is so dear to me.

Oh, how I wish that I could hear

The smile you give when I am near.

Oh, how I wish that I could taste

The touch of sun upon my face,

Or know the smell of seasoned wood

By touching it. I wish I could

Stroke the sound of music clear

To recall the tunes I once held dear.

Thus if one sense I fail to use,

I can upon another choose,

And all my senses then employ

And not be robbed of all life’s joy.

For, if on one sense we depend

Where is the pleasure without end?

Why does the beauty have to fade

Because there is no light and shade?

What consolation strong drum-beat

Without the thrill of tapping feet?

Velvet dark of balmy night

With no relief of starlight bright?

Wind and salty taste of sea

With rolling waves I cannot see?

Sight, sound, smell and taste and feel,

All senses which make living real.

We must not on one sense depend

For deepest pleasure without end.

June Hall.

(Mrs Hall suffers fromAge-related Macular Degeneration)