A Summer Cold
Yucky stuff, these stinky colds.
Nose so clogged, couldn’t small a rose.
Taking it easy, sitting in a chair
feeling so rotten, I just don’t care.
Taking a nap in the middle of the day
hoping when I wake – it’s gone away.
No such luck with a cold in your head
about all you can do is stay in bed.
I’m sneezing and wheezing, wiping my nose
a big pile of Kleenex covers my toes.
It will soon be a memory, all but forgotten
I won’t even remember that I felt so rotten
Poetry and Art by Patricia Walter 2000 ©