by cricketjeff on February 4, 2010. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
I face the day without a smiling face.
I cannot breathe while lying down in bed,
So may as well get up and join the race.
The sky’s still dark, and drizzle fills the air,
No inspiration there to mould the mind.
A shirt and tie, a waistcoat picked with care,
But hair uncombed suggesting I’ve gone blind.
A mug of tea! Will things start looking up?
No chance of that my sense of taste has died.
It’s hot and brown and looks right in the cup,
But almost all the pleasure is denied.
I can’t complain it’s just a common cold,
But suddenly I’m feeling very old!