Bad Cold by Shel Silverstein

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  This cold is too much for my shortsleeve. Go get me a Kleenex--and fast. I sniffle and wheeze And I'm ready to sneeze And I don't know how long I can last.... Atchoo--it's to wet for a kleenex, So bring me handkerchief, quick. It's--atchoo--no joke, Now the handkerchief's soaked. Hey, a dish towel just might do the trick. Atchoo--it's too much for bath towel. There never has been such a cold. I'll be better off With that big tablecloth, No--bring me the flag off the pole. Atchoo--bring the clothes from the closet, Atchaa--get the sheets from the bed, The drapes off the window, The rugs off the floor To soak up this cold in my head. Atchoo-- hurry down to the circus And ask if they'll lend you the tent. You say they said yes? Here it comes--Lord be blessed-- Here it is--Ah-kachoooo--there it went.

What To Hold On To?

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In a country village of Pennsylvania a physician gave books on infidelity [immorality, pornography] to a young man and persuaded him to deny the Lord Jesus Christ.

When the young man was fifty years old, he lay dying and was attended by the same physician, the infidel teacher. As the end was approaching, the doctor told him to die as he lived—a rejector of the great God and Savior, Jesus Christ.

“Hold on to the end,” the doctor urged.
“Yes, doctor,” said the dying man, “there is just my trouble—you gave me nothing to hold on to.”

The doctor could not answer.

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