Old Shoes

Old Shoes...You are a friend,
Of mine.
You never fuss, or fume, or whine,
You only comfort me.

You take me where a pathway,
Guides.
You build me up for steady strides,
You only comfort me.

With pleasure there's no rub,
No cinch.
No tortured gait, no inward pinch,
You only comfort me.

Out side mid winter's chill,
And storms.
The touch of fleece just soothes,
And warms.
You only comfort me.

Old Shoes...you are a friend,
Of mine.
Your soul within is genuine,
You only comfort me.

E.P. 1908 - 1989