Sometimes you just have to laugh, rather than cry.
It does no good to wonder why.
A writer/editor needs her hands
To create and massage the words that land
On her desk or spring from her brain.
But who’s to pen them? It’s silly insane…
To watch irony wreak havoc again…
A story, a novel…of course that’s when
All the words come together in the perfect blend.
You’ve been looking for them a long, long time.
It doesn’t matter that they don’t even rhyme.
But the howling laughter of the ridiculousness
Of a healing wrist, captive in a brace, no less,
Breaking out in hives from that which heals and defends.
Such are the joys of Lupus, my friends.
The wolf will not get me as I count my blessings.
I’m alive today…no second guessing…
I can poke fun at insidious Lupus
Because I will be here to kick up a fuss
Of giggles and puns about my blisters.
It may not be the case for my sisters,
Who share this deadly disease with me.
Give thanks for the times that you can see
Beyond yourself to the plight of others.
Another day…Another sunrise…Another…
Chance to laugh and let my words be heard
Even though they’re ludicrous and absurd.
I send my giggles and grins to all who cry
Because they can’t smile or stand or even try
To keep the Lupus wolf from devouring them alive.
This writer/editor who can’t hold a pen or type
Can still speak to her DRAGON and all is right!
I am happy to laugh at my silly sorrows
Because there will be new words to write and correct tomorrow.
DEBORAH A. BOWMAN
PLEASE HELP US FIND THE CURE FOR THOSE WHO MAY NOT HAVE ANOTHER DAY!