In The Sick Of It

I write this with conflicting emotions.
On the one hand, there is a warmth explosion,
and I have been given the fortune
of nostrils clearing,
headache disappearing,
and healthiness nearing.
On the other hand, I am filled with sadness,
as I learned that I have passed this
to my Jenna, my promised and bestest.

These past few days have been filled
With soup, blankets, sleep, and still.
And, if at all possible, so the next few will.
But this weekend is already full with plans and more
Tomorrow to Willow's Lodge for another grand tour
Then to Montlake to watch the Huskies defend and score
Sunday to lunch with both sets of parents
Which promises to be such a fun event
I plan on drinking, drinking, repeat, then rinse.

For poets and writers and scholars of theatre
Who've noticed I haven't obeyed any meter
I promise next time I'll try to be neater
But I just wanted to say why I've been so quiet
These past few days that have gone by quite silent:
I've been at war with a viral villain so violent
It's had me knocked out, unable to focus
On diamonds or weddings or honeymoon mochas
But I'm now wide awake, the alarm has woke us.
Or at least me. Jenna may still stay asleep.