A poem to a cold would gladly see
the use of ephedrine to clear congested
cavities and passages, draining free
a mucous mess unhappily ingested.
The chesty barks of hacking coughs attest
a morbid drama that unfolds, a dying
of the breath, a nose that does its very best
to carry signatures of perfect scent trying
to discern its salutary task,
the raw appendage leaks
with nasal tears that ask
for sweet reprieve and seeks
redress from pain with self-belief
that rum & cloves will bring relief.
© 29 June 2007, I.D. Carswell