Argh… your cry of pain
Propelled from your bed
By the agony of cramps
In your lower legs and feet!
It feels as though
Your shins and calves
Are being crushed
In some medieval torture device!
Your feet are bunched
Like boxers fists
As you stamp stamp stamp
Trying to pop the bones
Back into their allotted place!
You dive into the bedside drawer
Looking for some Quinine
But the blister pack is empty
Victim of previous attacks.
So now you set off
Again on clenched feet
Staggering downstairs
In search of more Quinine.
You’re half naked
So must do all this in the dark
Lest you frighten the neighbours
Or the wildlife!
Ah, open a fresh packet
Of Quinine Sulphate
It says take one at night
But this is the second and needed!
Back to bed
Still trying to stretch
Those calf muscles
Pulling up one’s toes
To stretch some more!
Then it occurs to you
“Shoulda taken some Arnica
That’s gonna bruise!”
But it’s too late now!
And so you lie there
Contemplating the indignities
That Age inflicts upon this body
That I still dream is young and virile!
This is all down to bad planning!
I thought I’d live fast
Die young and leave a beautiful memory.
I didn’t know I had to plan for all this!
Copyright © Res Burman 5th June 2019