I actually have an interesting post brewing based on a recent Pentecost jaunt to Rome. But every time I set out to write it I decide I am still jet-lagged and do something else instead. Like now, for example, when I'm instead going to pass along a poem from the late Dean Walter. My mom just dug it up, coincident with my recent reference to him here.
Trying To Unscramble Lay And Lying
by Dean Walter
There was a man from our town
Who always told the truth,
But he would lie in bed at night
For hours on end, forsooth!
Yet he would lay his burdens down
Before he climbed in bed,
Then could not tell where they were laid...
Or so the neighbors said.
One night he tossed both to and fro
For he was wracked with pain
Until he found his troubles lay
Where he had lately lain.
One day the neighbors came to call
And found that he was dying;
And though he never told a lie,
In death they found him lying.
The moral of our ditty
Is a problem most renown,
That people want to lay about
Instead of lying down.
But time will come when others
Will have to lay us out.
How good then if we're not the kind
That men must lie about!
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