The Lighter Side of a Cold

When you work with a cold, as I am today,
You feel awful and chilly and tired.
One way to get through-- may I now say to you?—
Is to keep silent fun unexpired.

I pretend I am hunting, as I waver and cough,
Like I’m out with my gun in the field.
But my double-barrel snot-gun keeps going off—
I’m reminded that’s all that I wield.

My throat keeps on burning; my head keeps on churning,
And I add lemon juice to my tea.
But I keep with my learning, while a living I’m earning,
I’m so glad that the beverage is free!

My nose is so sore, and it feels such a bore
To keep blowing and wiping so often.
But I look at that door, and forget that it’s sore—
Going home somehow makes it to soften.

Well, the day’s getting old; I’ll be glad to behold
My house and my blanket and bed.
I finally will fold, and in spite of this cold,
This poem was just written—not said.