Lord. Thou knowest I am growing older.
Keep me from becoming talkative and
possessed from the idea that I must
express myself on every subject.
Release me from the craving to straighten
out everyone's affairs.
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 be wrong.
Make me thoughtful but not nosey,
helpful but not bossy.
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.