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.