God's Drunken Sailor

The whole cancer thing has gotten so hard now that I just want to have some fun.

The drunken sailor comes to church 

with beery fumes and cheery smile.

Sit back, my friends, and watch him lurch 

right down the communion aisle.

In Catholic places he'd get wine,

not a lot, enough to love,

and that would leave him feeling fine,

praising the priest and God above,

but elsewhere grape juice is the thing

(did not Jesus, though, make wine from water?),

and digging deep he's gotta bring 

the thinking that he maybe oughter

respect the ones who teetotal;

what they don't drink makes his mug full.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is INVEST.

Everything is going south,

and I've long been on the run,

but I ain't gonna shut my mouth,

and singing, will invest in fun.

Not because elsewise I'd weep,

there are no tears here of a clown.

No, my joy is mine to keep,

and dying doesn't get me down

because the days are fully blessed 

if I have the wit to see,

and seeing is to pass the test

and go to where I'd rather be,

in a place of joyous dance

which is survival's bestest chance.

If you want some really good recipes, please drop by and visit my friends Pam and Tony, at the Som-Tin-Ta Eat food truck blog.

You can also find them on Facebook.

Sylvia has stolen a full beer can or three. Ice cream is better. Sometimes.