Wednesday, December 21, 2011

SPECIAL POEM FOR OLDER FOLKS

A row of bottles on my shelf

Caused me to analyze myself.

One yellow pill I have to pop

Goes to my heart so it won't stop.

A little white one that I take

Goes to my hands so they don't shake.

The blue ones that I use a lot

Tell me I'm happy when I'm not.

The purple pill goes to my brain

And tells me that I have no pain.

The capsules tell me not to wheeze

Or cough or shake or even sneeze

The red ones, smallest ones of all

Go to my blood so I won't fall.

The orange one, very big and bright

Prevent my leg cramps in the night.

Such an array of brilliant pills
Helping to cure all kinds of ills.
But what I'd really like to know...
Is what tells each one where to go!

There's always a lot to be thankful for if
you take time to look for it.

For example I am sitting here thinking

how nice it is that wrinkles don't hurt...

2 comments:

Bob G. said...

MSN:
That's true with a great many people...
SO many pills for so many ailments.
Fortunately, I'm not there yet.

("Every time I look in the mirror...all these lines on my face getting clearer..." - From Aerosmith: Dream On)

Good post.

Stay safe (and DRY) down there.

Joanne said...

Great poem and funny too!
Blessings, Joanne