“Ode to my Cold and my Wife”


Hello virus, you old fiend,
You’ve come to infect me once again,
Because a grandchild who came visiting,
Left her snot while she was sleeping,
And the virus that was planted in my brain
Now remains
And now I suffer, in silence.

A restless night I spent alone
Trying not to cough up a lung,
‘Neath the halo of my reading lamp,
I got a fever, forehead cold and damp
Then my eyes were stabbed by the flash of the bathroom light
And my wife asked if I was all right.
But I suffer, in silence.

And in the bathroom light I saw
Concern upon her lovely face.
I sat there with my nose leaking,
Over my comfy blanket I was peeking,
Though she knew of my pain and she did care,
Approach she did not dare.
So I suffered, in silence.

“Fool,” said I, “You do not know.
This virus like a cancer grows.
It was in my sinuses and then my throat,
Now it’s in my chest.” I croaked.
Then my chin onto my comfy blanket fell
And I suffered, in silence

Some people buy pills and pray
To the pharmaceuticals they take.
But my wife would have me give out this warning
I take nothing while my cold is forming.
And so, while this poem you might find cute,
I really do not stay mute,
And I do not suffer in silence.


Note: I hate being ill. I’m not stoic about it and my wife is very loving and puts up with a grumpy complaining whiny jerk for the duration. She’s awesome in other words and I love her so much for it. I hope she finds this amusing (she did) and was a way of saying thank you.


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