Ten O'Clock, day after tomorrow,
Henry Nilson's funeral's almost  here,
I hate to but I really have to go
Cause we've been friends for sixty years

Rode twelve years on the same old bus
Made memories by the dozens
Played sports, chased girls and learned to cuss,
Married sweethearts who were cousins....

Adjoining acres, ranched and farmed
Never had a fight or angry word,
Kept each other's backs from harm,
Old Henry's death just seems absurd.

Melva loved to worry on about the kids and weather
And when the television doctors said
"Go get a physical," she said, "We'd better!"
And then commenced the journey of the dead.

Old Henry'd never had a use for hospitals,
Said only sick people should go, and he'd
No time for such a waste of time at all...
Besides, he wasn't even sick, by gee.

But Melva kept the pressure up, and she
Though never tall, was never short with words
'Til poor ol' Henry finally gave in to her plea
And let her make a date with Dr. Wards.

He  grumbled to me afterwards, about the big to-do,
"They put me on a fast the day before, not even water!
Couldn't have a cup of joe, nor pinch of chew!
And when we got there, the nurse looked like our daughter!

Old Henry seldom saw the sun below his tee-shirt line,
So when she handed him a gown, he  struggled for a time
Before  he put the ****** thing on, "minus any clothes"
And wondered how to cinch it up...the fasteners  were  behind.

Old Dr. Ward gave cautious smile on entering the room,
"How long's it been, Mr. Nilson, since your last  physical?
I  don't have a record of your charts, so I assume
You've doctored elsewhere?" He looked up, quizzical.

Henry cleared his throat and said, "I ain't been anywhere!"
(At seventy, such a terse statement is something to be said.)
"Wal...that 'ent exactly true, I guess. There  was a couple times
I came for stitches or a broke arm"... his face was weathered red.

What happened  next, old Henry wouldn't speak a word...
Results were good, surprised the doc and Melva, too.
"You'll make a hundred at this rate," the doctor purred,
And  Henry saddled up and  left all in a stew.

A week or so went by, and Henry's medical triumph
Made the rounds of gossips in church and at the bar;
"A waste of time!" was all old Henry humphed.
And the next day, a heart attack took him in the car.

No moral now will end this sad old story,
No fancy shibboleths or speculation;
I notice though, the clinic's in less glory,
From physicals, I'm taking a vacation.

Now listen to the tale of Lila LaRue
A tale that taught us
to think before you do.
A plump gal she was, weighed three hundred and three
She had a strange love for berries, you see?
She hopped down Yale Trail,
And sat on stump
Plop! Right next to Edward the grump.
Edward was old, his memory fading
and didn’t appreciate Lila’s space invading.
“Lila,” he grumbled
“what do you need?”
“I’m looking for the old Yale Berry Tree!”
He sighed and humphed and grumped and thought,
“Kids these days.”
The adventures they sought!
He pointed to the left,
and said ”follow the trail.”
How Lila couldn’t wait to fill her pail!
Lila ****** to her side,
And broke into a run;
She had to get berries
‘Fore the day was done.
But then Edward shouted
something she couldn’t make out
so she lifted her head to see what it was about.
But she tripped on a root
And fell into a tree
“Its old Yale!”
Lila thought with great glee.
She plucked off a berry,
with a strange looking skin
But what was stranger
Was what lied within.
The juice is too ****,
she thought much too late.
Then the grump found her,
in her lifeless state.
“Such a fool, that Lila LaRue.
never read the sign, like I told her to do.”
“Poisonous Berries, please do not eat.”
The sign read, freshly painted and neat.
Always listen to Edward
for he is old and wise.
“Never let a careless  mistake
become your demise.”