I’m not to well at present but I’m determined to get on with the panto. Meanwhile:
Lying sick upon the bed, around me my possessions spread
A glasses case, a pen or two, hot water bottle, paper, too.
But there’s one object I require – a book, or more, my main desire
For stomach ache can be ignored when stories stop me getting bored.
They must be good or I will sleep, into another world I’ll creep
And all the pains of this sad day- Imagination wafts away.