Cricket Song Farm

Cricket Song Farm

Monday, March 4, 2013


I feel awful,
 I'm cranky,
 (and you all know I hate that).
My head hurts
I can't stay on track
my mind wanders.
I forget
I mis-place things.
When I can sleep,
I  dream about
shovels ---really.
I must be ill, deathly ill.
I call the doctor--not really--
I search the Internet
hoping to find a cure
or a clue to my demise.
I search for answers
I find what's ailing me,
it's real.
I have all the symptoms
there is no cure
except to wait it out
it will eventually run it's course
in the meantime
 I will plant seeds, lots of seeds, in little black pots
and set them in a sunny south window.
I will read about beautiful flowers
and draw plans for the gardens
I'll go bare-foot in the yard (as soon as the snow is gone)
I'll dig holes, lots of holes, to plant trees in
and spend my sleepless nights delivering adorable baby goats.
I feel better already.
Have you had a case of the dreaded spring fever too? 

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