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.
You have my sympathy, I would blame the gnomes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We evicted them very successfully! They were a noisy pair. Thanks for visiting and for the comment.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A fine sympathy inspiring poem! Everyone deserves a little babying when they are sick!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Clare and I were nursing each other in between coughs and splutters.
LikeLiked by 1 person
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! 😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s quite the scary face: I’ll look out for the e-mail.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, it’s mostly good…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank heavens for that … I don’t like the ‘mostly’ though … send that e-mail.
LikeLike
Hey funny roger !!how much u laugh in in ur difficulty of flu.i like dis way of living with positivity.marvellous.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I had to do something positive. It’s over now, the flu. I miss all those funny noises!
LikeLike
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.
LikeLiked by 1 person
All is well here, Aruna. Have no fear.
LikeLike
All is well. Fear not.
LikeLike
Thank God.dear roger.
LikeLiked by 1 person
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!
LikeLiked by 1 person
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.
LikeLike
Hope the gnomes leave soon. Nice poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am in the process of evicting them. They do wheeze nicely, though. Thanks for the comment!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Get well! And well done on turning a dose of flu into inspiration…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Polly. I’ve written couple more … boy, I hate those gnomes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
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.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Naughty little gnomes with their wheeze-box, squeeze-box! Their tap-dancing makes water run from my nose … oh dear, I missed that one!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yuck…naughty indeed!
LikeLiked by 1 person
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.
LikeLiked by 1 person
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 ….
LikeLike