Lord, You know that I am growing older.
Keep me from becoming talkative and possessed
with the idea that I must express myself
on every subject.
Release me from the craving to straighten out
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 You know,
Lord, that I want a few friends at the end.