The Cold (I'm Sick)

The Cold (I’m Sick)

I haven’t had a cold in years, of this there is no doubt,

I wish someone would come along and simply knock me out,

The drippy, sneezy, sore throat thing which has me in its grip,

So I will make a special tool to slide inside and rip.

I’d rip out every tickle that develops into cough,

And, every spot that forms a drip which makes my nose a trough,

I’d rip out all the cobwebs which are cluttering my head,

And, all the irritation in my chest I rather dread.

My wife has banished me to basement oh so far away,

The cats and I curl on the couch in symbiosis lay,

I cough, and sneeze and carry on; the cats don’t even stir,

I think they turn the volume up with each and every purr.

With all the ills that mankind has it could be far much worse,

Yet, it is still a nuisance that I’ll call a ‘minor curse’,

I know that I am really blessed for all God does provide,

And, while this ‘thorn’ is passing through I’m glad He’s by my side!

Peter Lowell Paulson

March 22, 2018