The Ramblings of an Old man

The Ramblings of an Old Man

I woke up one morning to a November fog.

Bleak, outside it was for any mortal.

Where are those ghastly purple slippers?

Aunt what's her face (will remain nameless) always had a strange sense of humor!

Fog of November, now I know how they feel in London.

Let's face it, what good is fog - ghastly - can't see damn thing.

I remember back in '32, the Depression - no mortal would want to live it!

That President (he will remain nameless), just about did us all in; cold killed my purple flowers!

London - I visited it once - ghastly, damn place!

No mortal in his right mind would go back - bleak, very bleak.

Met a filly, pretty face (she will remain nameless), good looker wearing a purple boa.

Took me out of my November fog, she did!

Place her, I can't; there is a purple haze over me - damn November Fog!

Let's face it; I am getting old - life is looking bleak at 95.

This mortal will remain nameless on his headstone.

And no longer will I have to deal with that ghastly November fog!

by Seabreeze 10.10.2018