Cold Ode

Yesterday, I caught a cold.

Today, it's what's got me.

I'm puttin' scarves around my neck

And whiskey in my tea.

My ears ache with a vengeance.

My bones are sore, to boot.

If Mom were still alive today

She'd brew sarsaparilla root.

She'd rub my chest with Vapo-Rub

She would make me stay in bed.

She'd pour concoctions down my throat

And lay hot cloths on my head.

She'd pile on quilts and covers

Until I soaked the sheets with sweat.

She'd make me sleep the day away

And serve food, soft and wet.

She'd yell at me if I got up

And order me back down.

She'd feed me oatmeal with a spoon

And do it with a frown.

She'd mend me with her voodoo.

Cured in two weeks from her ways.

But with her gone I'll have this cold

Another fourteen days.

 

L G Vernon 2009
(sniff)