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Some of the church choir and the pastor are coming here Sunday night to see the place and I'm supposed to write a funny welcome song or poem to greet them with. Let's use this occasion to get some unsuitable one out of my system, as they seem to be the only ones that sprig to mind when I try to write:
TO: Holy, Holy, Holy
Holey, holey, holey,
My bras are holey.
I have moved them twice now.
They're ancient history.
I should buy some new ones,
Bras that fit me nicely.
I think I'll shop now - Sears and then Penny's.
OK, OK - this song should welcome people to my new home, and not dwell on the worrisome minutia of life.
TO: This is my Father's World
This is my tiny space.
I am glad to have you here.
Outside my room the traffic zooms, play music loudly to hear.
Please make yourself at home.
And find rest in my kind thoughts,
That'll have to do, so I'm warning you, one chair is all that I've got.
I am determined to survive whatver debris life throws my way with my sense of humor intact. I'm a 52 year old woman with disabling MS and, after trying to fight it out by myself, have recently moved into a nursing home. This is the story of my effort to get through life while living here. My one talent and redeeming trait is that I enjoy writing nonsense verse, which I will share with you. all entries © Deborah Taylor, 2010 All rights reserved
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