A Bad Christmas Cold Poem
The spirit of the season
Is bubbling like a brew
But its gift, beyond all reason,
To my body, is the flu.
Used Kleenex lies like drifted snow,
The orange juice is flowing
And there is no cure that I know
To keep my nose from blowing.
A fuzzy scarlet blanket now
Serves as my Santa suit
And cool cloths on my fevered brow
Keep me from looking cute.
Instead of ringing silver bells
You hear my hacking cough
Despite the Christmas cookie smells,
All I want is broth.
I should be wrapping all those things
Or festiving the tree
But shoulds can fly on angel’s wings
I’m sick as I can be.
The holidays are almost here
And they may pass me by.
I’m full of snot, not Christmas cheer
As one this couch I lie.
I’m sorry I’m not full of cheer
I’m sorry that I’m ill
Hope Santa and his reindeer
Will bring a get-well pill.
4 comments
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December 20, 2012 at 12:59 pm
slpmartin
This well could become a Christmas classic…hope you recover soon…till then take good care.
December 20, 2012 at 1:07 pm
Seasweetie
Merry merry, slp.
December 20, 2012 at 10:31 pm
Alice
Ah, shucks. God rest ye, Seasweetie.
December 21, 2012 at 2:21 pm
caboose25251
That is one of the best poems I have heard in a long time!!!