I wrote the poem below while thinking of the odd but enjoyable dreams I've had when I've gone to bed slightly feverish from too long in the sun.
By Karen Ashley Greenstone
When my temperature is one hundred and three,
These are some things I like to see.
Sometimes I like to hallucinate
Of mice who mate,
Or snakes who skate,
Or a hippo with a curly pate
Who ambles along at a clumsy gait
To the watering hole where she likes to wait.
And then at times I like to dream
Of live ice cream,
Or a dancing scream,
Or a traveling team
Of mad moonbeams
That fill the heavens with crazy gleams
Till all the planets start to steam.
At other times my thoughts will turn
To the arctic worm
Who has to squirm
Through tons and tons of snow packed firm,
Or even to the tropical germ
Who aims to infect the epiderm
Of the mighty majestic pachyderm.
And finally my mind will swirl.
Then acrobats whirl
With lips that curl
And hands that hurl
Pink flying squirrels
At tap-dancing girls
Who are all named Merl.
These thoughts all pounce
As my fever mounts
Until I have reams
Of fever dreams
To stun the nations.