A Poem by A.A.Milne

In keeping with my resolution to be more child-like and child-orientated, I have been reading some A.A. Milne to my kids this morning. These were no Disney, cartoonified Winnie-the-Pooh books, but dusty old tomes, unearthed recently from a trunk of my childhood treasures.

This poem tickled my fancy, and also seems appropriate given the apparent outbreak amongst bloggers recently of some dreaded dripping-nose, clogged-chest, razor-blade-throat disease.

So here it is. Bless you and gesundheit!


Sneezles

Christopher Robin
Had wheezles
And sneezles,
They bundled him
Into
His bed.
They gave him what goes
With a cold in the nose,
And some more for a cold
In the head.
They wondered
If wheezles
Could turn
Into measles,
If sneezles
Would turn
Into mumps;
They examined his chest
For a rash,
And the rest
Of his body for swellings and lumps.
They sent for some doctors
In sneezles
And wheezles
To tell them what ought
To be done.

All sorts and conditions
Of famous physicians
Came hurrying round
At a run.
They all made a note
Of the state of his throat,
They asked if he suffered from thirst;
They asked if the sneezles
Came after the wheezles,
Or if the first sneezle
Came first.
They said, "If you teazle
A sneezle
Or wheezle,
A measle may easily grow.
But humour or pleazle
The wheezle
Or sneezle,
The measle
Will certainly go."

They expounded the reazles
For sneezles
And wheezles,
The manner of measles
When new.
They said, "If he freezles
In draughts and in breezles,
Then PHTHEEZLES
May even ensue."

Christopher Robin
Got up in the morning
The sneezels had vanished away.
And the look in his eye
Seemed to say to the sky
"Now, how to amuse them today?"

-------------------------------------
Get better soon my sneezling wheezling friends!