Id may be hard for you do geth
Ow I game too dith tharry meth
But as dith is da thtart of thpring
Perhapth you’ve witnethed thuch a thing

The ragweed pollen came to path
and layed me down upon my ath
And ath my fever ever grew
At firtht I thought I had the flu

How much I with that I could breeth
To thmell the flowerth on the treeth
And eating’th not the thame at home
A muthroom tathts like thtyrofoam

Dear God, if you are thtill out there
And lithen to thith thalem prayer,
Pleath make my thinuthuth okay
And take my allergeeth away.
 

© 2001 David I. Brager