Crabbit Old Woman...What Do You See Nurse, What Do You See? Poem by Shaun Cronick

What do you see nurse, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you're looking at me?
A crabbit old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles her food and makes no reply,
When you say in a loud voice, 'I do wish you'd try! '
Who seems not to notice, the things that you do,
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe.

Who resisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.
Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes nurse, you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten, with a father and mother,
And brothers and sisters, who love one and other.

A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now, a lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty, my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.

At twenty five now, I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty, my young grown so fast,
Bound to each other, with ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.
At fifty, once more, babies play round my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I've known.

I'm an old woman now...and nature is cruel,
Tis jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigour depart,
There is now a stone, where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,
And now and again, my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and giving life all over again.

I think of the years, all too few gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact, that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, nurses, open and see,
Not a crabbit old woman, look closer - see ME!

This magnificent, touching, lost poem was written by Phyllis McCormack.
In 1966 whilst working as a nurse in Sunnyside Hospital,
Montrose, Scotland.
It has other titles, Crabbit, What do you see?
None of which are on here.
It is now for everyone to read.