TREASURE

When you say you can take trash and turn it into treasure,  
Sadly, the opposite statement we must also endure.  
 
For one person's treasure remains trash to me,  
And I do mean this poem to be taken most politely.  
 
Buttercups, bales of hay, bleating in the sun,  
How could one argue with such springtime fun?  
 
Golden, fanning petals look upon clear blue sky - Delight!  
Sheep and lambs graze, wool coats catching the light.  
 
Meanwhile...as we bask in such a wonderous sight,
A boy with a tissue is given a fright.
 
Atishoo! Atishoo! Hanki-less he did call
That darn pollen will be his downfall  
 
His eyes puffy red, the white bloodshot through and through  
The Benedryl's been taken, what good will that do?  
 
The sun gives a glare to his fragile red eyes,  
No sunglasses to help stop the pain, as his retina fries.  
 
Buzz goes the bee in the nearby summer air,  
Oh wait that's a wasp and I instantly scare.  
 
Wait, don't move! Stand still, it's better that way.  
Ouch, now it's stung me, I should have run away.  
 
The wheezing is worse, the asthma's kicked in,  
I'm sticky and sweating and my chest's clamping in.  
 
Flies to the left of me, nettles to the right,  
The countryside haven sure is a delight.  
 
Foot in a cowpat, flies more numerous still,  
I pant with horror as I prepare to mount that hill.  
 
All in the blaze of the midday summer sun,  
Can't complain in the slightest, we're having such fun.  
 
Think to yourself of all the wonderful vitamin D,  
Actually, screw that! Give me rickets, a dark room and a nice cup of tea.  
 
AFRIENDOFTINA