Gold colored can of foul floral scent,

blast through the air and make your descent—

on pillows, on blankets, on bears and on beds,

cover them all until all germs are dead.

Hover and linger, alive in the air,

gobbling it all until nothing is there.

Ridding my home with your magical power

of this plague that makes everyone puke on the hour.

Scour and scourge until all trace is gone,

restoring our health by the breaking of dawn—

Cleanse us of sickness, we humbly pray,

for I MUST be to work on the very next day.

family life humor motherhood poetry raising boys