An unwanted visitor has descended upon me
I failed to keep him out
I have my squatters rights he says
when your bones start wearing out
There's no such thing as golden years
it's a rusty lie he states
if you manage to live long enough
it's me who lays in wait
I'll tap you on the shoulder
I'll pat you on the back
I'll sit upon your bended knees
I'll attack your hips and neck
There's one thing for certain
I'll be here until your gone
so pop a pill to ease your ills
while I make myself at home
copyright 2009 Carol Murdock
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5 comments:
Oh how I relate to this excellent poem. I'm currently in physical therapy for a broken shoulder and arm and I'm so aware that my poor bones will now be a barometer for cold and rainy days! I've left you something on my blog, Carol. The rules are a bit time consuming but play if you would like. Also, I am not sure why your blog is not updating on my bloglist. I wonder if it is just my list.
All the best,
Catherine
Lovely blog! This is my first visit and I have enjoyed browsing your site very much. I'm sure Edward and I shall return!
Catherine...I saw it and was speechless.......Thanks !
P,T & E............
I'm so glad you came by the Porch !
Do come back!
Carol
This poem goes for many people of my age. The visitor is unwanted, but will stay permanently.
Oh Carol...I keep putting more locks on my doors to keep the unwanted visitor out! And danged if he doesn't have a key to all of them!
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