I’m feeling sick.
And I’m feeling ill.
I need a pillow,
For my head.
And a blanket,
And my bed.
I’m feeling funny.
Some tea and honey,
Might do the trick.
For I’m feeling ill.
I’m feeling sick.
I’m feeling sick.
And I’m feeling ill.
I need a pillow,
For my head.
And a blanket,
And my bed.
I’m feeling funny.
Some tea and honey,
Might do the trick.
For I’m feeling ill.
I’m feeling sick.
Ugh. I hope it’s not a bug.
Curl up warm, and
Hope the cat’s
In purring form,
Then you can drink
Your tea and honey,
With some purring
On your tummy,
Cuz being sick,
Is not so funny.
I hope it,s not a bug. Ugh.
Thank you, Ken. The cat is currently engaged in her usual mid-afternoon activity (lack of activity, rather…) curled up unconscious and snoring on the bed. If I get in bed, which I’m about to do, then she’ll cuddle with me.
Get well soon
Perhaps that spoon
full of honey
and that nice cup of tea
will have you feeling
bright and sunny
as a busy honey bee
A bit of a worry – starting to think in rhyme – hope you’re better.
That’s so sweet. 🙂 You know, sometime I feel like I was born into the wrong century because I love receiving verses from gentlemen. 😉
As for thinking in rhyme, well, join the club. Ken and I are charter members.
Haha,
It’s oft a curse,
To think in verse,
Not always time,
For brilliant rhyme,
Friends suffer long,
While I talk song,
Though they say stuff,
When they’ve enough,
And then I stop,
Or my nose they bop.
To think or not to think,
In rhyme, base or divine,
Ken, ’tis all thy fault,
This rhyming assault,
Thou art the chief offender,
The founding club member.
Suffer we must through,
All thy rhymes,
Through all the good,
And the bad times.