Posts Tagged ‘allergies’

Hazy air.
Sneezing and wheezing.

Seems dusty.
No, not Sahara,
Not this time.

The farmers
Set fire to their fields –
Smoky air.

It travels
From where to bless us?


* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.


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I hab a liddle trouble wid my node and allergies;
I’m allergic do the grasses and de bollen ob de drees.
My throat will start do dickle and my node will start do run,
Den, coughing and a-wheezing, I’m nod habbing any fun.
I’m stobbed ub like de water in de back of Boulder Dam
But my node is flooding dissues like de sea floods Amsterdam.

It goes down in my donsils and id gurgles all around,
And oud my monkey boice comes and makes a fuddy sound.
So while I’m habbing trouble, de boor folks who hab do hear
Are habbing trouble also and deir trouble id sebere.
Bud as I wride my liddle poem, I dink of dose who read.
And wonder why my written words have also atrophied.


© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

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A Friday Afternoon

A Friday afternoon – I need
My shot for allergies,
A weekly thing like Saturdays,
Or else, I wheeze and sneeze.

The doctor’s office, thirty chairs –
And empty, ev’ry one!
A healthy world of people means
Their Friday has been fun.

And so, when nurse pops out the door,
She need not call my name.
I am the only patient there –
I get attention, fame.

So on this Friday for the world,
And me, as shot comes quick,
It is the day the work week ends
And I, nor world is sick!


© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

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        Correct Placement

If I were snuffling in the grass,
   Like dogs who follow scents,
A century would have to pass
   Ere sniffles would dispense. 

If I buzzed among the flowers,
   Like ever busy bees,
I’d be spending countless hours
   Quite shaken by a sneeze.

If like a bird, I perched on limbs
   Of elms and mighty oaks,
I’d fill with pollen to the brim,
   And gasp and wheeze and choke.

And so we see that God was wise:
   I’m of the human race.
Since allergies are my demise,
   In nature, I’ve no place.


© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.

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