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GO NO MORE A BOWLING

So we’ll go no more a bowling So late into this night Though our arms be still as willing And the lanes be still as bright, For balls wear out the fingers And arthritis shows its might, While the back pains all linger And knees need rest’s respite. Though the night is made for bowling And the lanes close far too soon, Yet we’ll go no more a rolling, Until the clock strikes noon.

Copyright © David Drowley

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Book: Shattered Sighs