May the pitcher be ever full
That I may from it drink.
A thirst that can't be sated,
Is my lot when by my sink.
O let the river reach the sea
That I may in it swim.
Let the ocean and its tides
Greet me when I'm in.
I ask not much from this life,
But be a happy soul.
For sorrow has had its day,
Let mirth to me console.
Ron
Love ya.
Jane
3 cheers for mirth,
and happy souls set free.
Michael D.