Something blooms, and in the air
sweet smelling blossoms bring forth
memories of lantana seizures, of
daisy scents that lead to steam tents, of
orange blossoms to IV prednisone, of
hives to hospitalizations.
My god has a wicked sense of humor.
Sparked by the endless list of
allergies that I count as mine
I sneeze and scratch while counting
blessings given by dust mites, chocolate,
perfumes, molds, eggplant, lamb,
inks, pollens, eggs, coconut, and fruit
not to mention magnesium, corn, and all those
touted whole grains that make me
double up in pain instead of feeling
bloomingly healthy.
Sometimes I give in and take them into my life,
anyway.
Allergies are the worst! You seem to be a hog on this!
ReplyDeleteThat's a pretty neat poem. Ironic isn't it? To be allergic to beauty and sweet smells like that. Your god is wicked.
ReplyDeleteLove the poem and I can actually smell that rose...
ReplyDeleteNo, we didn't eat at Hodad's at least this time as I had to have a fish taco or two... We did have lunch the day before at Tender Green's. It was great.
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ReplyDeleteGreat poem!! My irises bloomed this morning!!! I'm smiling!!!
ReplyDeleteLoved this....."bloomingly healthy" was my favorite part!
ReplyDeleteYou sure took me in. A beautiful rose and then POW prednisone. Life is hard for those with alergies. Fortunately for me, I am very nearly perfect although many of my close family members suffer with asthema and other assorted delights.
ReplyDeleteI am the queen of skin cancer. Doc cut out a big chunk of my arm yesterday with the comment "Usually these things are small."
Typing not fun today. Dianne
Great spirit.
ReplyDeleteHope you are rewarded with a painless visit to the dentist.