There I was, lying in my bed
A rattle in my lungs, fever messin’ up my head
I dreamed weird dreams and lounged in a funk
Hallucinating from the all the Nyquil I’d drunk.
I dreamed Timothy Olyphant was nuzzling my neck
But woke instead to sloppy dog kisses – BLECH.
Then dreams of ice skating, executing perfect landings
Only to find spilled ice chips, in wet socks – barely standing.
Pile the blankets on, throw them off moments later.
Shivery then sweaty – my thermometer’s a traitor!
Too weak to stand, too sore to lay down any longer
Impatiently waiting for the day I feel stronger.
At last cough has departed – fever’s gone from my head
I face the new day with a real sense of dread.
Surveying the work that piled up while out on that “trip”
I head for the Nyquil, for just one more sip!!!
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- Nyquil and Bridges (jackwren.wordpress.com)
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