Just a little illness,
Something that gets me off my feet,
A friendly virus partial to good deeds
To leave me bed-bound for a day or three.

A minor car crash,
No one but me,
A harmlessish accident arranged by the Gods
To leave me bed-bound for a week or three.

A break is as good as a change they say,
So maybe a real hospital pass in 5 a side
- a wrist-breaker on crash landing -
So no more typing for four to six weeks.

Chest hair is really useful for creating a lather quickly.

A tragedy miles of time away
But pain is a stubborn stain
Counselling never washes it out
New love never puts it out of its misery

It is a stubborn ****,
Rooted in composted memories,
Finds nourishment in unwelcome recollections;
The slightest trigger allows it to blossom.