Once upon an eerie morn,
I woke up with the claws of scorn;
One placed atop my aching head,
The other holding me in bed,
And months ahead to my surprise
Did fill with tears my swollen eyes.
Then I did learn what does prevail;
The illness that has made me pale.
For now my ears they buzz as bees,
That swarm among the plants and trees.
And muscles grasp and clasp and twitch.
The skin upon my arms does itch.
Though in my yard no apple grows,
But yet, the scent does brush my nose.
And where my glasses I do place,
When I return there is no trace.
There is a reason I presume,
Why I have walked into this room;
And so go back and hope to find
The reason that I left behind.
I used to run down any hall…
But now I hold onto the wall.
Sometimes I cannot walk at all;
Sometimes, I simply have to c-r-a-w-l.
For friends who have a winded pipe,
Of many words, the draining type,
I now must set a timer bell
To shorten tales they wish to tell.
And I explain in my defense
My friends, you must not take offence.
I yawn not at your strifes and woes;
The illness makes me nod and doze.
And what maintains a love affair?
It must be something in the air.
Or is it just the swings of mood
That tango with your solitude.
Perhaps the scent of menthol rub;
Or sweetened words I often flub;
When on occasion in my head
The script is there but then instead
The words do fumble and abort;
When salt is sand and wall is wart;
When win is wine and nod is nude
And speed is slow and mad’s the mood!!
The universe will soon reveal
The secret that it does conceal;
The reason for this pain and strife;
A new found purpose in my life?
Though now my thoughts are out of sorts
I still expel some fine retorts!
Just kindly tell me if you please…
WHERE have I put my bloomin keys??!
Colleen Downey c 1998
Ammended 2019
