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In honor of National Poetry Month, and the fact that I stuck my arms in a jacket I haven't worn for two years (because the zipper sticks), and I consequently got a return of the poison ivy I had on my arms from two years ago (Yes, I washed the jacket 3 times before wearing it again!) ... Here is my Poison Ivy Poem. It was written yet another time I contracted the lovely rash, when I knelt in a Michigan bog one fall to get a close-up photo. (No, I wasn't taking this photo; all the leaves had died back into the swamp by that time.)
Can be sung to the tune of "Clementine."
Oh my darling, Poison Ivy, I don't like you, don't you know?
Oosing rashes, itchy patches, from my knees down to my toes.
I just wanted a little photo, simple picture of nature sweet.
So I knelt down on the wet ground, through my jeans your oil did seep.
Just a little poke in my little hip, my doc said would do the trick.
Then the nurse came: "Drop your drawers, kid. Don't you give me any lip!"
I'm on steroids, lovely steroids, feeling pretty, fast and strong.
I'm so smart, too, till the pills are through, so I wrote this perfect song.
Oh my darling, Poison Ivy, I don't like you, don't you know?
Oosing rashes, itchy patches, from my knees down to my toes.
Oh my darling, Poison Ivy, I don't like you, don't you know?
Oosing rashes, itchy patches, from my knees down to my toes.
I just wanted a little photo, simple picture of nature sweet.
So I knelt down on the wet ground, through my jeans your oil did seep.
Just a little poke in my little hip, my doc said would do the trick.
Then the nurse came: "Drop your drawers, kid. Don't you give me any lip!"
I'm on steroids, lovely steroids, feeling pretty, fast and strong.
I'm so smart, too, till the pills are through, so I wrote this perfect song.
Oh my darling, Poison Ivy, I don't like you, don't you know?
Oosing rashes, itchy patches, from my knees down to my toes.
