Brain Fever Bird Poem by Peter Strugnell

Brain Fever Bird



deep in the green of a Banana tree,
there's a wee bird twittering at me,
when the heavy air lies hot and still,
he cries, your ill, your ill, your ill!

I wouldn't mind if he said it just once,
does he takes me for a stupid dunce?
time after time your ears he'll fill,
with cries of, your ill, your ill, your ill!

'in a word 'well' doc is how i feel',
i don't listen to their spiel,
i don't believe it but soon I will,
coz, your ill, your ill, your ill!

from the outside it really doesn't show,
but how is it that i'm the last to know?
the wee bird's voice is now quite a shrill,
he says, your ill, your ill, your ill!

he's persistent he demands to be heard,
the voice you hear is the brain fever bird,
he keeps on saying you are, until....
its true, your ill, your ill, your ill.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
This is an adaptation of a poem by my grandfather who caught malaria while in the Royal Navy on the river boats in indonesia
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Adeline Foster 20 April 2011

Cute, Cute, and yes those predictions do seem to catch up to us with time. Thanks for the comment on Love's Diamond. Adeline

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