A Trilogy of Poetry, Prose and Thoughts

Each of us can identify with this agonizing process.  Individuals normally tell me the worst kind to have is in the summer time.  The expectation of most is normally in the winter, but at times it creeps up on each of us in the summer.  Sometimes it just won’t go away and a longstanding battle follows which zaps our strength.  This is one of my battles, however, I know that each of you may have encountered a similar one in the past and probably will in the future.

It Was A Good Fight

It came upon me like a thief in the night

I knew at that moment we would be in for a fight

Oh, it tried to rob me of my strength

We fought a good fight hooking and jabbing

It lasted all night and the next day but I had an end in sight

At one point it thought I was down and out

But it just didn’t know what it was up against

I came back swinging and kicking again

I almost had it knocked out cold

But it was tough, rough, and bold

One night it eagerly woke me up before dawn

It had awful chills running down my spine

I fought back vigorously with all the Quils

Then it slipped away and crept into my throat

In a desperate bid it tried a strangle hold

“Don’t even try it,” I said, “you won’t touch my voice”

I socked it to it with hot salt water all day long

Then it ran for my nose as a last resort

I called in reinforcements; sat in the steam room

With vapor rub on my chest, oh! It felt so good

I was now breathing easy; I had it cornered

Where can it run now, where can it hide?

It was down for the count and I was counting

I savored the moment with a smile

Then it came back and I went running

I had to call in the big boys this time

Oh, hot toddie, you taste so good to me

This baby is going down this time

Warm my soul with your soothing touch

While I get ready to deliver the next punch

There is a dance known as the “Bus Stop.”  Anyone at a party is able to tell when the dance is about to begin.  Depending on what part of the country one may be residing in the name may change.  In some parts it is the Bus Stop and in other parts it is the “Electric Glide.” Interestingly enough, in various places it is referred to as the “Electric Slide.”  Whatever name it is called by, it is easy to tell when it’s time to hit the dance floor and dip to the glide.

The Electric Slide

Slide to the stop girl

Glide on back and whirl

Slide to the stop girl

Tonight we glide and twirl

Slide back and then glide forward

Glide left and the slide right

Slide to the stop girl

Glide on back and whirl

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