You Are Stiff, Father William (with apologies to Lewis Carroll and/or Robert Southey)

"You are stiff Father William, you struggle to wink

And your hands both perpetually shake

Except when you sleep.  Might it help do you think

If you chose to spend less time awake?"

"In my youth," said the sage, "my hands remained still

And I needed to sleep very little.

Now I drool when I doze; if I sleep more I will

Quite possibly drown in my spittle."

"You are slow Father William, your shuffling gait

Has become so pronounced when you walk

That wherever you go you're invariably late

And you're slurring your words when you talk."

"I keep," he replied, "such symptoms at bay

(And the drug manufacturers wealthy)

By means of these tablets (two dozen a day)

I'm assured that they're keeping me healthy."

"You are rich Father William but I can't afford

The deposit to buy me a shed.

Like all my friends' parents, you've lived like a lord

Will you leave it to me when you're dead?"

"I've lived," he replied, "in an opulent way

My meals often ran to four courses

But since I've had Parky, I'm sorry to say,

I've gambled it all on the horses."

"Your prognosis, my Father, could hardly be worse.

Some people might think it unfair.

Yet you sit there concocting your whimsical verse,

Do you never give way to despair?"

"Do not forget that you're British, my son,

And an Englishman never complains.

Enjoy what you have, as you'll not have much fun

If you just stop in bed when it rains."