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The Pills - A poem for the ageing
A row of bottles on my shelf
Caused me to analyse 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 won'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 choke or even
sneeze.
The red ones, smallest of them all
Go to my blood so I won't
fall.
The orange ones, 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 is always
much to be thankful for if you take time to look for it.
For example I am sitting here thinking how wonderful
it is that wrinkles do not
hurt.
--Anon
Courtesy of Dr Lionel Hartley's Seniors' Seminar:
"Youthful Ageing -
Growing Older Gracefully"
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