An oldish codger from Newfoundland
thought to pleasure himself with his hand;
but though he was bent on
achieving a hard-on,
things simply didn't go as he planned!
The old codger, upon circumspection,
knew t'was futile to get an e***tion.
With a dong so flaccid,
limp, flabby and vapid,
he knew he'd need a doctor's inspection.
Improving our status requires hard work.
An abundance of years has made us old.
Majority of school mates have gone on.
And accelerating days increase our speed
Newly reborn by accepting Jesus as my personal savior.
Only as old as we feel.
Liar, liar, pants are on fire
Death has it’s eye on us.
Cozy was not synonymous with old.
Objective in life, is outperforming our expectations.
Death is the payment for our use of space.
Golden years is a misnomer, some are more like rust.
Edifying God always makes our life easier.
Recommend making your peace with God before it’s late.
Get thee hence! Get thee hence!
Away the riffraff from my fence
Ye've rattled window and rattled doors
Till there's no peace upon the moors
The hallowed folk have left their graves
To rid themselves these noisome knaves
The tyrants peal rings through my head
Till any room for thought is dead
I'd rid myself this fearsome bane
If I had not a limp and cane
Yet wield do I that wood in vain
For the blighters to abstain
Their laughter loud begins to boil
Not troubled they at all my toil
Surrender I with naught a choice
For it seems I've lost my voice
I must placate them one and all
Returning to them their playball
Old Codger Crotchfield of Livermore
Knows of no child he does not deplore
When kids trick or treat
He throws them pig's feet
The next day raw eggs cling to his door
Written 10/17/22
So, this bunny was really hungry I guessed.
The old weathered snail was testy in his nest.
That bunny was trying to steal our carrots he said.
This old codger was wrinkled, older, should have been dead.
That baby bunny must have been hungry to dig.
I said to this old codger, whose hair should have been a wig.
He is a thief! The old geezer said, not giving the baby a chance.
I walked away rapidly, almost doing a dance.
Not too many who will mourn for me
For I haven't got a grand history;
So I hope some in Heaven’s choir
Will sing for me when I expire.
[not me, just musing last night]
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