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Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Sonnet CXXI

“Ah Mother, I feel awfully sick today!
I’m coughing, sneezing, wheezing everywhere.
Please let me stay at home for just one day!
Without my night clothes, I feel sadly bare.
My bed keeps all the chills and heat away,
eliminating fevers with great care.
My head is aching, more than I shall say;
my throat is itchy – sore beyond compare!”

But “No!” she says, the cruel and vile word,
condemning me so very wickedly.
But then I see the reason of her words:
in tow, she holds a bunch of remedies,
“Drink up!” she says, as if I were a bird,
and down my cures did go - sweet medicine.

1 comment:

  1. Reading this sonnet back to myself, I realized it really does sound Dr. Seuss-esque. Anyone have the same impression?


A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!