Comedy of Errors

Ron, my doctor’s nursing assistant, concentrating as I talk about my novel. He wants to read it! (SOOC.)

Chantler63 Shakespeare Challenge and National Poetry Writing Month
Day 7: The Earl of Kent - a faithful servant in ‘King Lear’


Ron is a great guy. He always brings my blood pressure down.
A good thing, considering the day I had.
Hence today’s poem.


THE COMEDY OF ERRORS

The day began with promise, when the sun
Shone brightly on the early morning frost.
But by the hour of sunset I had lost
My mind, and was pathetically undone.

Arriving at the pool, though not in time
For favorite teacher Sheryl’s aqua class,
Towel forgot. With paper dried my ass,
Quite thankful for Portlandia’s temperate clime.

Then off to lunch, my novel to attack
With clever wordsmanship and edits wise,
Only to find before my wandering eyes
Distracting blips whose comments set me back.

At home I managed two productive hours.
A rest before my next appointment? No,
Upon the wooden floor and table flowed
An upset water-heavy vase of flowers.

So on my hands and knees I quickly mopped
To save the wood from mold and indoor rain
While wondering how—I truly wracked my brain—
To dry the woolen carpet that was sopped.

Off to the doc—she loved my toilet blip
And praised my poems while she lanced a cyst—
But then Ron’s portrait somehow went amiss
And wouldn’t make the download wifi trip.

One thing after another, so it went
Till now, near midnight, as I race the clock
To post a double challenge with a yock,
I must admit I’m duly, truly spent.

Despite the mishaps that did on me creep—
Hoping this ditty doesn’t sound too daft
And much too tired for a second draft—
A happy day was had. And so to sleep.