Sunday, 31 May 2009


I am getting old, dear God, and I'm very tired;
I'm not really certain why I'm here.
I've plodded along day by day,
Progressing very little year by year.

There are those never to be forgotten,
Their names are carved in stone.
They made history while residing here,
But I've just quietly meandered on alone.

I've nursed many a wee, sick animal,
But then I really like doing that!
I've helped the old folk now and then,
But I've enjoyed the tea and the chat!

I've always kept an open house
For those having lost their way,
Being sad, lost and alone is pitiful,
When from home you are far away.

It doesn't seem much does it, Lord?
So please tell me now, before I die,
Do you think I've done alright down here?
And a low voice whispered.... Aye.

Rhys Reese

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