We are delighted to present this booklet of illustrated poems by five artists studying at the Royal College of Art. This initiative aims to raise awareness of the importance of memories and shared experiences, highlighting how poetry and art can interact as a form of therapy, enhancing communication and nurturing social connections between carers and their loved ones.
Each artist has chosen a poem from the Alzheimer’s UK website (Poems for Dementia), written by loved ones and carers, and illustrated with sensitivity and care, in the hope that it offers emotional comfort.
The poems have been interpreted through each artist’s individual practice, including: painting, architecture, jewellery, visual communication, and textiles, and demonstrates the diversity of artistic expression and its ability to resonate with personal emotional experiences.
For further insight into the artists’ inspirations, please see the credits at the end of this book.
We hope this booklet offers you a moment of reflection and pause in your day.
llustration by Georgia Zhai, Wood and Resin, 2025,35 x 41 cm
My Poem to Dementia
by Julie Donworth
What have you done to me dementia
When she repeats things over and over again I no longer have patience and it just drives me insane
What have you done to me dementia
I seem to be distancing myself for when the day comes That she doesn’t know me and that she’s my mum
What have you done to me dementia I no longer enjoy my frequent visits to mums And get upset with myself when time to leave comes
What have you done to me dementia
The person who cared for her without a blink of my eye To the one I am now, guilt ridden, resentful it makes me cry
One thing I know dementia you will never take my memories Of the mum who would race us all around the block Dad standing by the gate in charge of the stop-watch
One thing I know dementia you can never take away Memories of playing games when we were all young On a Sunday afternoon laughing having fun
One thing I know dementia you will never take from me
Memories of mum looking gorgeous when dad got home at night Lippy on, pencil skirt, heels, hair done she looked a bit of alright!
One thing I know dementia you can never steal from me
The woman she once was, a caring loving mother and friend
These memories will stay with me until the bitter end
So I say this to you dementia – one day your day will come
That you won’t be here to take away someone else’s mum
The time will come dementia that you will no longer be around The hard work the researchers do – a cure, I’m sure will be found
Alison's Poem
by Alison Bolus
‘Am I someone I know, or just a copy of what I used to be?’
Am I a mirror of my old self, now pared down to the bone?
Am I still viable as a person, or just a memory of what I once was? Perhaps the memories I have are only mirages of the mind… More and more, my brain takes me back to childhood, muddling the brain. Semi-remembered times and places dance before my brain, Is it now common for one to time travel?
But…
Oh brave new world, please take me back to “Go” so I can have another chance at the muddle that is my life... There is more to me than the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s. There is me.
"Am I someone I know, or just a copy of what I used to be?"
Illustration by Junyu Qu, Batik and Knitting on Cotton, 2025, 56.5 x 56.5 cm
"Mum lived in the same care home as her own mother. I was told that sometimes Mum would wander into the room that years before her mother had lived in".
"She would leave a dressing gown on the bed of room number seven (my grandma's room) and tell the carers it was for her mother."
llustration by Beverley Isaacs, Gouache on Paper, 2025, 27 x 36cm
My Mum, My Mate
by Diane Wilkinson
As the years went by, though times had changed, You were always still my Mum.
You’d taught me how to walk and eat. And now, we had swapped places.
I helped you,
With those simple things you were unable to do.
Your gentle, calm and grateful heart, And blue / grey eyes, still always shone through. We’d often laughed and would sing, and pull all funny faces.
You loved our trips out in the car. Keeping watch as we went to different places. But then
One day
I visited you.With that same beaming smile and twinkling eyes You told me.
Slow and straight
You said‘You are my beauty.
You’re old now.’
However old we are.
You’ll always be. My mum.
My mate. Valerie.
DIGNITY
by Jacqueline Harrison
I may seem old and frail to you, My “faculties” all gone. I may need help in all I do, But that doesn’t mean “I’m done”
I was just like you once, you know My abilities all intact. I had a job, a life, a home And that, my dear carer, is a fact!
Just because I now need help
With any daily task
Doesn’t mean I’ve lost my dignity It’s just something old age likes to mask
Please remember when you help me
That I’m still “ME” inside
So yes, though you wash and feed me I still have my dignity and pride
Dignity is so important
It might be the last thing that I own
So please, dear carer, remember To treat me as one of your own
Illustration by Sissi Heitkam, Digital Collage, 2025, 34 x 34cm
The Homecoming
by Tony Ward
My dead mother welcomed us home.
Nine hundred years of prayers curled upwards, ‘We remember those whose anniversary of death falls at this time...
I had forgotten the date. Three weeks of sorting boxes and hanging curtains had stolen time.
Until that Sunday.
Illustration by Selina Wong, Rendering, 2025, 29.7 x 42cm
‘Peace be with you.’
I saw her face, smiling again. Not frightened. Not angry at lost memories. Thirty three not ninety three. I was a child again on the beach. The warmth of her smile was the summer sun. Happiness welled within me. There were no tears.
Three weeks since an anxious, snow bright journey home to mugs of tea, kindness and chaos. Friends of my youth wore old faces I did not recognise. Faded photographs strained to reawaken past lives, shared a new.
A past life. A new life.
‘Keep out of the reach and sight of children’. She never did.
Three generations of outstretched arms gave the lie to that.
A tablet of another kind, in the churchyard, inscribed with name and date alone does not enclose her life. She will always be there, to reach out, to comfort.
Welcome home.
Credits
Junyu Qu
RCA MA Textile Design 2025
Textile work focusing on Thangka painting and inner peace
@ju_kaixin
Alison's Poem (Poem #2)
This comb embodies reflections on life stages, identity, and the dignity of vulnerable groups. The wooden handle transitions from light brown to silvergray, symbolizing aging and society’s shifting beauty standards, yet affirming that the desire for beauty persists. The resin teeth, with their fluid, vibrant hues, evoke Alzheimer’s fragmented perception— offering joy and a tactile connection to selfexpression. More than a grooming tool, this comb transforms a daily ritual into a reclamation of selfworth, resisting aging’s stigma and illness’s erosion of autonomy, reaffirming that beauty remains an intrinsic part of human dignity.
Georgia Zhai
MA RCA Jewelry&Metal
Jewelry design focusing on bodily expression and vocal movement
zhzhaiyyaxin@163.com
@GeorgiaZhai
My Poem to Dementia (Poem #1)
After reading her poetry, I was inspired to create a painting that represents the image she holds in her heart using batik, while also expressing what I felt from her words through the forms of wax and yarn. Batik involves applying melted wax to fabric with a wax tool, followed by dyeing the fabric with indigo. Blue, being one of the primary colors of light and a psychological primary color, symbolizes the sky and represents eternal memory. The wax traces cannot be washed away, much like how forgotten memories leave lasting marks, slowly remaining over time. I incorporated butterfly elements into my work. While there is no definitive research on how long a butterfly's memory lasts, it is likely that their memory is short-lived, Although dementia had short-term memory loss, everything was done more slowly and with more random logic. She learned to live with dementia and came to realize that she was still herself. Additionally, I included swirling shapes to represent the collision of memory whirlpools.
Credits
Beverley Isaacs
RCA MA Painting 2025
“My work exists in a state of flux: capturing movement, questioning certainty and our existential state” www.beverleyisaacs.com @i;beverley
My Mum, My Mate (Poem #3)
This poem deeply resonated with me and reminded me of my own experiences caring for elderly family members. It is a powerful reminder that even when a person’s mobility or memory fades, their soul remains, and dignity is their final stronghold. “Treat others as you wish to be treated”. I reflected on the importance of not only providing physical care but also respecting the emotions and autonomy of those we care for. Through my visual design, I aim to express this core idea—that dignity endures, even as everything else fades. The withered leaves in the composition symbolize the passage of time and the loss of memories, while elements of light or solid forms represent the unchanging essence of a person.
Sissi Heitkam
RCA MA RCA Visual Communication
"My work explores decentering human perspective, surveillance and post-human environments through visual storytelling" imfeila3@gmail.com
DIGNITY (Poem #4)
The poem I chose reflects mutual care, remembering small daily acts of kindness that weave strong threads of unconditional love and trust between a mother and child within the home— something many can relate to. I was inspired to illustrate the short anecdote written as a prequel to the poem by the author about her grandmother, reminding us how care is passed down through generations. These small gestures, though seemingly small, are in fact a lasting legacy we cherish at life’s end. A dressing gown placed on a bed symbolises warmth and comfort. I chose blue as the dominant colour for its emotional depth—evoking calm, peace, trust, and serenity, yet also sadness and melancholy.
Shun Hang Wong Selina
RCA MA Architecture 2025
Architecture work focusing on personals and gentrification. @5gofsalt
The Homecoming (Poem #5)
Inspired by the poem The Homecoming by Tony Ward, which was written to honor his mother’s. This work explores and wishes to create a spatial experience through an architectural approach. It seeks to recreate Tony Ward’s mother’s room, incorporating elements and moments described in the poem.
- Three weeks of sorting boxes and hanging curtains
