I WAS sixty seven once

Mercy buckets I'm not kicking the bucket yet, not by a long chalk. Glad you found it a nice little thought, but its true we must keep the little grey cells a-dancing, everywhere in our beings, every aspect of life's dances and then we will be better prepared to fight if and when we need to. BRRRR I suddenly thought of this :-La grippe porcine- I like the French description don't you? Well it has gripped Norway in its muzzle and sent all people to the doctor for jabs of this and that, I have a mask and cotton loves to wear in the shops, and nearly two thousand have caught the 'svineinfluensa' in Southern Norway so far, something like 18 are dead oh not nice!!!! But we hope that it doesn't catch us here, I haven't got the jab yet, there wasn't enough for everyone and those over sixty were not SO Important!!!! So one is patient and doesn't go out in crowded places, and all that we have to be careful with, scary? I wrote a little bit today:- Oh the pigs are loose they romp about in Norway's pleasant land polluting our ease with disease La grippe porcine has taken lives and multiplied with many 'wives' it seems. Now nigh on two thousand lives are smitten with influenza's dread and more than 18 are dead! 'Tis nature she has never a care for how we fare she lives and loves and treats our lives all equals with the dust and flies all part of this fine crust the earth supports we must accept its doom the hour will come when we're are done or undone I should say when elements beyond our power carry all the sway and end the light of day. Then not a vice, a sound, a song can change their furious fates we helpless lie, we cannot cry oh save us, its too late; unless by chance there's one or two who make it to the skies in man made rockets fired into oblivion's bright eyes and there they'll be forever severed from their warm light womb circling round and round no beacon to lead on will they be gone, what will they think as to infinity they sink without a throng. Alone forever out in space like feathers in the wind embraced by great gaunt spaces with solar wind upon their faces elements so strange where even gold's no longer mint is only but a memory so faint will there be books of history or judgements in the brine where human's have left time behind on earth will they become a second birth? Glad you liked my poem Bonitaj Love Ann of Norway (69- next year 70!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Blimey, but we are as old/ or young as we feel!!! No?) YES.