Sunday, July 18, 2010

An Ode to Lip Balm (PTL) in the style of the Psalmist

Yea, though I run through the valley of wind, I will not fear.

Your gentle oils protect my tender lips. 

Your minty-freshness awakens my nostrils with fresh breezes.

Though I run, gasping for breath, you fail me not.

Oh lip balm, what would I do without you?

Like butter in the frying pan, you are. Greasy and tasty, all at once!

Beeswax, olive oil, or petroleum, The Lord had a good thing in mind with you.

Oh, lip balm. You are beautiful.

May you live long in your tube, away from the heat of summer or my car.

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