Plight of the Blight of Ivy

Creeping crawling

flaming red itch.

Stretching across me

like a vine wrapped

around a tree trunk.

Waking me at 4:00am

with your torment.

Layers and layers 

of calamine which leaves 

me looking like a ghost

of powdered white.

Feeling like a leper

and thankful to be in 2015

and not in Israel 

in any time period.

Hide myself inside

but barely to go out,

washing off chalk white

just long enough

to pick up the kids 

from school.

Puffy eyes each morning

and laugh to keep

from cry.

Never, no never I warn thee,

wipe the sweat from your face

or any part of thine body

whilst wearing your gloves

for gardening.

You will pay dearly for weeks.

This is the plight of one

with a blight of ivy.