Emparted Words

In a treasure cove of old family documents -- marriage certificates, death certificates, Honorable Discharge papers---I find several hand written poems. The first one, Ode to the Pill Box appears to be an original poem where as the second one is accredited to an anonymous writer. Apparently she found it amusing in her advancing age.  These were handwritten by my great grandma Arliea Longbottom Rau. She had passed away before I was born so I never had the pleasure of meeting her, and honestly, don't know much about her life. I think her sense of humor shows through in these poems and apparently a woman of faith.

Ode to the Pill Box

There are many pills for many ills, your doctor will prescribe 'em.
In different shape and sizes, you eat 'em or imbibe 'em

There are pressure  pills, both high and low,  and pills to help your liver
As well as those for jangled nerves and some to cure a shiver.

Some pills will keep you up when dull
and some when you are duller

In capsule and in tablet form, they bloom in techn-icolor.



My Get-Up-And-Go Has Got Up and Went



Old age is golden, or so I’ve heard said,
But sometimes I wonder, as I crawl into bed,


With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up.
As sleep dims my vision, I say to myself:
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?


But, though nations are warring, and Congress is vexed,
We’ll still stick around to see what happens next!


How do I know my youth is all spent?
My get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But, in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
And think of the places my getup has been!


When I was young, my slippers were red;
I could kick up my heels right over my head.
When I was older my slippers were blue,
But still I could dance the whole night through.


Now I am older, my slippers are black.
I huff to the store and puff my way back.
But never you laugh; I don’t mind at all:
I’d rather be huffing than not puff at all!


How do I know my youth is all spent?
My get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But, in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
And think of the places my getup has been!


I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Open the paper, and read the Obits.
If I’m not there, I know I’m not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed!


How do I know my youth is all spent?
My get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But, in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
And think of the places my getup has been!

Journey
 
I do not know what the future holds --
of joy or pain
of loss or gain --
Along life's untrod way
 
But I believe
I can receive
God's promised guidance day by day.
 
So as I securely travel on
And if at times the journey leads
through water's deep, on mountains steep
I know this unseen Friend.
 
This love revealing
His presence healing
Walks with me to  journey's end
So I securely travel on