“allergies”

A tickle in my nose, a whisper in the breeze,  
The maples spill their golden dust among the waking trees.  
Sunlight falls on tulip beds, and honeysuckle climbs—  
But spring returns with sneezes now and watery-eyed rhymes.

The dandelions dream in fluff, their armies take to flight,  
They tumble high to summer skies, they linger through the night.  
I step outside, the morning bright, with hope for clear-skied days,  
But pollen swims upon the air—a yellow-greenish haze.

I brave the world: with tissues stuffed in pockets, sleeve, and hand;  
The choir of sneezes echoes where I stifle my command.  
The grass it sings, and cottonwoods dizzy through the town,  
Yet, for my eyes and nose and throat, the world turns upside down.

But with my tea and honey, and windows closed up tight,  
I listen to the bumblebees, just humming out of sight.  
Though April brings me watery eyes and a gentle, constant sneeze,  
I greet the season’s beauty too—just don’t mind if I wheeze!

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