27/08/2026
Of all the thieves that walk the earth,
Dementia is the quietest one.
It does not arrive with crashing storms,
Or announce itself beneath the sun.
It tiptoes through familiar rooms,
Stealing moments, one by one,
A name once held with certainty,
A story told, a task begun.
It blurs the edges of yesterday,
And softens faces loved for years,
Leaving fragments of a treasured life
Mixed with confusion, loss and tears.
Yet still beneath the fading mist,
Beyond what memory may conceal,
There lives a heart that loves and hopes,
A soul that thinks and deeply feels.
A gentle touch, a kindly smile,
A favourite song, a hand held tight,
Can spark a flicker through the haze
And fill a darkened day with light.
For though dementia may reshape
The pathways winding through the mind,
It cannot steal a person's worth,
Nor every trace they leave behind.
So let us meet them where they are,
With patience, dignity and grace,
Remembering that every life
Deserves compassion, time and space.
And when the memories drift away
Like autumn leaves upon the air,
Love remains, steadfast and true,
A quiet reminder: someone is still there. 💜
