An Old Ode

[puternut]

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

With my ears in the drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My glasses on the table, until I get up.

As sleep dims my vision, I say to myself
IS there anything else I should lay on the shelf?

The reason I know my youth is all spent?
Is 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!

[mac44]

You're not too badly off puternut because you don't mention having to do anything with the syrup.