Two Gnomes
Two small gnomes
have set up camp
in my lungs.
All night long
they play their squeeze
box, wheeze box concertinas,
never quite in unison.
Sometimes they stamp
their feet and dance.
Their wild night music
catches in my throat
and I cough up
unmusical songs
that splutter and choke.
An east wind blows
outside my window.
It whistles and groans
as it herds the stars
from left to right.
The stars chase
the westering moon.
The planets dance
to the rhythms
of the accordion music
playing in my chest.
Comment: Raw poem, raw sore throat. I wish this flu on nobody. And yes, I had my flu shot, so the flu bug probably mutated and created a version just for me. This is also an “I need sympathy poem” so, moan and groan … splutter and cough, breakfast’s ready and I’m off.
rogermoorepoet 
You have my sympathy, I would blame the gnomes.
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We evicted them very successfully! They were a noisy pair. Thanks for visiting and for the comment.
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A fine sympathy inspiring poem! Everyone deserves a little babying when they are sick!
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Clare and I were nursing each other in between coughs and splutters.
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One thing you hope NOT to share with your partner! Ah well I hope it’s all gone now. Owe you an email… they finally figured out my chronic cough! 😦
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That’s quite the scary face: I’ll look out for the e-mail.
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Well, it’s mostly good…
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Thank heavens for that … I don’t like the ‘mostly’ though … send that e-mail.
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Hey funny roger !!how much u laugh in in ur difficulty of flu.i like dis way of living with positivity.marvellous.
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I had to do something positive. It’s over now, the flu. I miss all those funny noises!
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Why.r u not well still now.?u have all posivity in ur heart den u will be happy in ur lonliness.dear roger.plz.be happy n well.all happieness will return back to u automatically.
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All is well here, Aruna. Have no fear.
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All is well. Fear not.
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Thank God.dear roger.
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I have sympathy for you. My life-saver is a jar of Vicks Vaporub. My Dad loved the stuff and so do I. Air is so dry these days. Get well!
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The old Vick Vapor Rub trick. I bet we’ve still got some upstairs. And the head wrapped in a towel held over a bowl of water with Vick dissolved in it … those were the days.
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Hope the gnomes leave soon. Nice poem.
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I am in the process of evicting them. They do wheeze nicely, though. Thanks for the comment!
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Get well! And well done on turning a dose of flu into inspiration…
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Thanks, Polly. I’ve written couple more … boy, I hate those gnomes.
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Heal quickly, Roger. My oldest just went through a round of this before he got home. Fortunately it was BEFORE…
Miserable, but I loved your take on it. I’ll save that one for the next time one of my children is ill.
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Naughty little gnomes with their wheeze-box, squeeze-box! Their tap-dancing makes water run from my nose … oh dear, I missed that one!
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Yuck…naughty indeed!
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So sorry to hear this, R. In fact, the ‘flu did indeed mutate, leaving us vulnerable. Lay low, find ginger ale ( wish I was there to deliver it) and rest. That’s it, that’s all.
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I was wondering if it was the same variety you had. “It’s hard to rest, with two small gnomes, dancing in your chest” … and noisy little people they are too! Life’s improving though … I can at least move today ….
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