The teary eyes do not surprise
though faerie dust will disagree
that it disposed a runny nose
or ever caused a chary sneeze
‘Rhinitis’ you say a mite amazed
as if a comic malady
with focus on a mucus to
effect a balanced sanity
You are for sure it’s not your
war and try to counsel warily
but this disquiet begets a riot
and rages on distressfully
Immunity or harmony would
hardly seem germane to me
but histamines are warring things
repelling motes you cannot see
You are fatigued in aching need
to find a healthy end agreed
within a pill to calm an ill which
seethes dissent disdainfully
© 20 January 2010, I. D. Carswell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem