Browsing through the "my documents" section of my computer, I found this poem I wrote. My buddy Lona is in rehab right now, going through seven kinds of hell. If you are a praying person, please remember Lona. If you aren't, then please send good and positive wishes her way. I'm sure she's sick and tired of being in rehab.
When I got a computer, I had heard some awful stories;
Some were kind of asinine, and some were downright gory,
About the dangers one might face while on the Internet,
And all the bawdy creatures one might wish she had not met.
I ventured to a chat room of the “Christian senior” type,
Prepared to use some wisdom, and get past the Newsday hype,
And find, perhaps, somebody sharing common thoughts and goals,
To help me to define myself, and find my proper role.
Ah, cautiously I watched the type that came across the screen:
The people I saw chatting weren’t counterfeit, or mean:
And yet I used discretion, till at last there came a day
I set up an acquaintance with someone called LonaMay.
We found out we were neighbors, not so many miles apart,
And we shared common interests, and the same things touched our hearts.
The more we chatted in the room, the more we had to say,
And gradually, I learned to trust my good friend, LonaMay.
One thing led to another, and of course we finally met.
(Now there’s a day in Texas that we never will forget!)
And later, down in Tennessee, I also met her Don.
I’m glad I got to meet him, before Jesus called him on.
Since then, I’ve met so many folks that I look on as friends…
Good people whom I dearly love, and on whom I depend.
Dear allies whose great kindnesses I never can repay…
And first and foremost of all these is my friend, Lona May!