This article is for you, if your world is dimming and you thought that MS would weaken your leg and nobody told you about fading vision.
Not everyone considers themselves a poet.
In fact, many who live with multiple sclerosis (MS) may feel that nonsense verse has no place in a life filled with mobility aids, brain fog, fatigue, or—today’s theme—fading vision.
But nonsense isn’t here to trivialise. It’s here to liberate.
Where MS imposes limits, nonsense nudges us back toward playfulness.
When sight dims, and the world becomes uncertain, poetry lets us navigate by imagination rather than sight.
This verse, like many in this series, is written not to inform but to uplift—to momentarily distract, to invite a chuckle, or even a half-smile from behind fogged lenses.
So let go of logic. Hold your walking stick like a wand. And join me for a brief wander through the weird.
Introduction to Fading Vision
MS rarely arrives with fanfare.
One day your world is crisp and clear; the next, the bus number is a blur and your cereal box waves at you from across the room.
Fading vision is one of MS’s quieter symptoms. Less dramatic than mobility loss. Less understood than fatigue. But it’s always there, edging into our periphery, misting up the windows.
Reading becomes a chore. Screens become interrogation lamps. People? Just abstract shapes in the hallway.
Yet into this blur, we introduce something sharper than any new prescription: nonsense verse.
Here, where the real world falters, nonsense helps us regain our sense of delight.
Introduction to Verse
Now that you’ve met the mood, let’s trip cheerfully into a place where specs are optional, and absurdity is 20/20.
The Blundered Optics Parade
A peacock misread the optician’s sign,
And strutted inside with a porcupine.
The doctor said, “Well, I suppose that’s fine,
But neither of you will read line nine.”
A walrus was fitting new shades in Peru,
But tripped on a jellyfish stuck to his shoe.
He winked at a cupboard and called it “Aunt Sue,”
Then asked the blindfold if it saw too.
A sparrow in spectacles soared through the rain,
Then perched on a bicycle mistaking it plain.
A sausage was waving from Platform Two—
Or was it a poodle disguised as a shoe?
A frog claimed the sunset was shaped like a box,
While a crow brushed its teeth with a weathered old fox.
A penguin in lenses tripped over the dew,
And blamed his confusion on “fading view stew.”
The mayor of Sniggleton, squinty but proud,
Addressed the wrong town from a stormy white cloud.
And though no one could follow the rest of his speech,
He high-fived a lamppost and waddled off beach.Reflection
Fading vision is not just a symptom—it’s a quiet reordering of the world.
Edges soften. Details disappear. A dear friend’s face may look distant, and fine print becomes adversarial.
But nonsense gives us permission to reinterpret the blur.
To find humour in our misfires, and to soften the sharp edges of frustration with a cushion of absurdity.
This verse doesn’t cure anything. It doesn’t pretend to.
But for those of us with MS, who navigate smudged signs and squinting days, it offers something far more nourishing than clarity: perspective.
Because fading vision may limit what we see – but never what we imagine.
Conclusion
So the next time your vision fades, don’t despair.
Picture the peacock. Laugh with the walrus.
Read nonsense out loud (even if you can’t read it well).
Fading vision with MS may be part of the journey – but it doesn’t get to define the whole road.
Not when we’ve got poetry, mischief, and a lamppost to high-five.
These associated nonsense poems may further tickle your fancy:
Not every meal needs meaning, but some days, the kitchen feels like a stage for Poems of Anxiety and Uncertainty. Still, if the broccoli rhymes and the sardines sing, you’re probably doing something right.
We started this exciting, nonsensical journey from landing page for this section.
