Trio of poems by Emma Yeoman 

1.Not so wise words.
Autism is not because I’m a bad Mum,

“That Kid” doesn’t need “a smack on the bum”,

That child is not being a “brat”,

I’m not just letting them “be like that”,

Autism isn’t just “bad behaviour”,

Your ‘helpful’ comments aren’t doing me a favour,

They won’t be cured from “a week in your care”,

…..Mention the MMR if you dare,

Yes they’ve got it right even though the child can speak,

Them having a meltdown doesn’t make them “a freak”,

It can still be Autism if they look you in the eye,

My child is even able to tell a lie,

“In your day” they probably did have Autism,

No I don’t think it is a “made up condition”,

“It’s not Autism, they socialise well”,

“They look so normal I couldn’t tell”,

Don’t ask me about their “special gift”,

Or tell me about “cures” you think exist,

No they “won’t ever grow out of it”,

No, I know “they don’t look Autistic”.
2.’But, Dr’.
My girl was growing up, life was slowly passing by,

My mind, my constant worrying, wondered why she always cried,

“But Dr, what is going on, why is my girl so sad?”

“Don’t worry, stop your panicking, I am sure it is nothing bad.”

“Poppycock!” I thought inside, I know something is not quite right,

My girl needs to get some rest from screaming day and night.
My girl wasn’t chatting by the time that she was 3,

Other peoples toddlers were having conversations with me,

“But, Dr, what is going on, why doesn’t she want to talk?”

“Don’t worry, stop your panicking, she was also late to walk.”

“Balderdash!” I thought inside, I know something is not quite right,

I can’t tell what my girl wants, I can’t leave her out my sight.
My girl would never look at me, I never saw her eyes,

She wouldn’t make eye contact, however hard we tried,

“But, Dr, what is going on? I think there’s something wrong.”

“Don’t worry, stop your panicking, I have said she is fine all along.”

“What rubbish!” I cried inside, I think she’s got some kind of delay,

Why won’t you listen, it was hard for me to come and tell you this today.
My girl went to a playgroup, but spent her day sat under a table,

She didn’t want to socialise, I don’t know that she was able.

“But Dr, what is going on? Why won’t my girl go play?”

“Don’t worry, stop your panicking, what do you want me to say?”

“Just listen”, I said out loud, “I know there is something wrong,

Listen to what I have to say, I have been coming for so long.”
“Please Dr, please just help my girl, I think she needs some tests,

I think my girl has Autism, and mothers always know best.”

“But Mum”, he said, “she is a girl, so Autism is quite rare.”

“Don’t worry, please just help me, don’t just sit there in your chair.”

Thank you, many thank yous when he finally listens to me,

My girl, on the way to diagnosis. I just want someone to agree.
My girl is growing up and got her diagnosis 2 years on,

My mind, even with conflicting advice, agreed with the conclusion drawn.

“But Dr, you need to remember that parents are mostly right.

We are not panicking when we feel somethings wrong, it’s clearly in our sight.

If someone mentions Autism, listen to what they say,

Help them with a diagnosis, don’t make them feel afraid.

3.’When the moment has passed.’

(The meltdown)
As the waves come in and kiss the sand,

As the long lost relative reaches land,

As the remnants of the sea bed rest,

From the rough seas churning, they gave up the test,

When the winds grew strong, the waves grew higher

When the swell was violent, not looking to tire,

When the boats were tossed and thrown around,

The rain and the splashing the only sounds,

The minutes turn in to terrifying hours,

Then the wind and waves start losing power,

That welcoming sight, a glimpse of blue sky,

The sea starts to settle, the rain starts to dry,

The storm is over, the sea is still,

The drifting debris floating down the waves’ hills,

Waiting to be washed up onto the land,

Waiting to rest on the safe, warm sand, 

When the moment has passed, the sea is resting,

The meltdown is over, the times were testing,

Washed up and safe in the arms of each other,

Gaining back strength from the love of another.

4 thoughts on “Trio of poems by Emma Yeoman ”

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