(Apologies to Irving Berlin)

Blisters, blisters,
Never were there such devoted blisters
Covering the surfaces of hands and feet
I only shoveled out the sleet

Popping, peeling
Proving that my nerve endings have feeling

When a certain storm drain clogged up from the plow
I cleared it off and then said ow

My skin is like tissue
It’s got some issues
Blisters from every run
I get dog hair splinters
And in the winter
It wrinkles in wind or sun

Blisters, Blisters
Trying to toughen up
so no more blisters
Many socks have promised to protect
But nothing can

Lord help the blisters
From walks with my brother or sister
And Lord help the blisters
Covering both of my hands

One response to “(Apologies to Irving Berlin)”

  1. Robert B Kent says:

    Love It! So-o-o true in every way and it doesn’t matter how old you are the little blister devils will bite you when ever they can.

Leave a Reply