Living the Aging Life

My candle burns for those who face

the surgeon’s sterile knife—

who tremble at the process

even though it offers life.

My candle burns for hospitals,

their staff, and all their crew.

My candle burns for those who ail.

My candle burns for you.

Folks who live in drier climates

have no reason to complain

‘bout the dreaded, dreary malady

called Mildew of the Brain.

Folks who sometimes see the sunshine

just can’t seem to understand

how a brain can warp and mold away

from wetness in the land.

Folks who live where there are seasons

think the year divides by four,

never thinking ‘bout the places

where there’s only rain in store.

The CDC should work on this,

 then isolate the strain and

make  a vaccination to

cure Mildew of the Brain.

December weather’s dank and dark

with days and nights of rain.

The water falls unceasingly.

There’s Mildew on My Brain.

My candle lifts its flame for you

to help you through this day.

It shines its flaming beacon

so you always see your way.

Kids are good

at ev’ry stage.

But, they grow better

as we age.

“This day will live in infamy.”

Yet, now, we scarce recall.

Massacres.  Wars.  And, killings.

Too many to count them all.

May angels walk with you today

to be your shield and guide.

May you be filled with happiness

as angels walk beside.

It rained today.

And the day before.

There’s more rain in the forecast.

I look morosely out the door.

How long can all this rain last?

The Stilly’s way, way

over its banks.

The water keeps on rising.

The locals say ‘twas times like this

made Noah enterprising.