Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #380
My Holiday
by Belinda Roddie
My holiday could not have come sooner,
yet here I was, wrapped up in starchy sheets,
the past few days a simple, mottled blur,
as I attempted to regain the heat
in both my fingers and my toes. I ailed
through Christmas and continued 'til the end
of the year; how I coughed and quaked and paled,
and no amount of tea or sleep could mend
the war that raged within my body. Lights
bedecked the houses, but my room was dim;
ornaments flashed, but during my long nights
in bed, I caught no glint or spark or whim
of festivities. In cold misery,
I found slight solace lying by the tree.
by Belinda Roddie
My holiday could not have come sooner,
yet here I was, wrapped up in starchy sheets,
the past few days a simple, mottled blur,
as I attempted to regain the heat
in both my fingers and my toes. I ailed
through Christmas and continued 'til the end
of the year; how I coughed and quaked and paled,
and no amount of tea or sleep could mend
the war that raged within my body. Lights
bedecked the houses, but my room was dim;
ornaments flashed, but during my long nights
in bed, I caught no glint or spark or whim
of festivities. In cold misery,
I found slight solace lying by the tree.
Comments
Post a Comment