The pugilists among us like very much to say,
“Fighting is the best approach to keep PD at bay.”
So it was that John believed, when first received the news.
Prepared himself for fisticuffs, swore he would not lose.
He donned his baggy boxing shorts (jockstrap underneath),
Added plastic mouthpiece, to protect his pearly teeth.
He stumbled into boxing ring, looked around and saw,
PD was not on the card; it would not take the fall.
Returned again the ‘morrow, for Parkinson’s to face,
But in the distant corner, was only empty space.
Boxers talk of stinging bees and butterflies that float;
John’s deceitful enemy had methods more remote.
Despite his brave endeavors, John’s symptoms grew still worse.
Of PD’s methodology, John began to curse.
John began believing, his faith in fight misguided,
By PD’s unseen uppercuts, felt he was blindsided.
John was getting shaky, on scorecards was behind;
How could he fight a fighter whose face he failed to find?
Unclear how to win a fight that he did not begin,
John looked about; found a towel, then he threw it in.
Fighting spirit gone from John, been dealt a heavy blow.
Suddenly he heard a laugh from thirty second-row.
His given name was Robert, but most folks called him Bob
Despite PD condition, he was no shaky blob.
John was flabbergasted, He looked at Bob with wonder,
Spending time with Robert, John realized his blunder.
Looking into Robert’s face, there’s no scowling fighter.
Robert smiled ear-to-ear, had countenance much brighter.
Instead of bruising boxing match, Bob prefers a race,
Instead of fighting shadows, he likes to make it chase.
Lived each day to fullest and by friends was surrounded
Exercised for love of it; from him joy abounded.
When asked about his methods, he flashes toothy grin.
No time for such idle talk, takes bicycle to spin.
Bob thought it pointless to discuss the Parky bully,
He was much too busy; his life was filled up, fully.