Energy levels just crash through the floor.
Queasy stomach tolerates yogurt – but no more.
Gravel rattles in the chest and makes the throat sore.
Tissues streaked with ochre proliferate, abhorred.
And a kettle malfunction is just the last straw!
(Though I do have to say, I love getting to stay,
In my warm cosy bed so much more!)
This little poemlet was inspired by a recent cold and stomach bug – not to mention the very untimely demise of my kettle just when it was most needed for making hot comforting drinks! It was also built around the Friday five at poefusion – a challenge to write a poem including the words crash, yoghurt, gravel, straw and ochre.
It was written aiming to convey humour rather than self pity, though I’m not sure it entirely comes out… it probably needs to be read aloud, with a tone of exaggerated and increasing misery in the first part building almost to tears, then a pause before delivering the last two lines with a large and somewhat smug grin!
Oh, and I’m sorry, but the somewhat disgusting image in the fourth line was both apt and the only way I could find to incorporate the word ochre!
I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear I’m feeling better now and less likely to inflict “poems” like this on innocent readers in future….
Thanks for Mr Rob T at Flickr for providing a much needed cup of hot lemon and honey!