Don't worry...I'm covering my cough.

Rain
by Shel Silverstein

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand-- I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

_____________

This poem (along with the picture shown below) is a pretty accurate rendering of how an upper respiratory infection makes you feel. FYI.

Dear Wind,

I'm sorry for using such strong and hateful language. I don't hate you, but you are a pest sometimes. The whole umbrella shenanigan you pulled this morning? Not cool. The crazy swirly nest you turn my hair into? Not my favorite. Mostly you are a bad influence on our friend the rain. Independently the two of you are just fine, but when you get together you turn into pesky, naughty little school boys who aren't bad or evil, but get into trouble all the same. Again I apologize. In the future I will try to praise you for your gentle breezes through the trees and all of your help with pollination. All I ask is that you calm down a little bit. Maybe it's time to lay off the sugar.

Sincerely,

GlitterPaintPony

Stupid Wind

Stupid wind just flipped my umbrella inside out. That's always so embarrassing, though I'm not sure why. There's nothing you can do about it and it happens to everyone. But then, as my umbrella righted itself, it swung into the coffee cup I was holding in my other hand and spilled it all over my pretty coat. Argh. So frustrating. But again. Who am I mad at? It's not my fault. It's not anyone's fault.... Except the wind. I hate the wind.

Stupid wind.