Lord, Thou knowest that I am growing older.
Keep me from becoming talkative and possessed
with the idea that I must express myself on
Release me from the craving to straighten out
Keep me from the recital of endless detail. Give me wings to get to the point.
Seal my lips when I am inclined to tell of my aches
and pains; they are increasing with the years
and my love to speak of them grows sweeter as
time goes by.
Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may
Make me thoughtful but not nosey; helpful but not
With my vast store of wisdom and experience it does
seem a pity not to use it all. But Thou knowest,
Lord, that I want a few friends at the end.