Ode To A Hot Flash

I beg thee Dear Hot Flash,
Leaveth me be.
For thou cometh so often,
And taunteth me.

My pits formeth pools,
Of hot, putrid sweat.
The pores on my forehead,
Doth openeth wide,
Inviting, "Come hither."
Sayething with sultry eyes.

The splashes doth rise,
Yea as evening tides.
E'er the sweat rushes forth.
Stinging my eyes.

Oh woe is me and alas!
As from a fountain hath,
Gusheth forth
A wash of salty liquid,
Trickling down the temples,
Pouring upon the planes of my face.
Dropulets drenching drips,
Like rain drizzling.
Plip, plop, plip.

The drips of sweat,
That runneth into my crack.
Form pools, any fool,
Doth wipe and swipe with stacks,
Of soft papers le eau de toilet
While keeping it softeth as a baleth of hay.

A rag! A rag!
I needest a rag,
To wipe wipe away,
These incessant sweat drenches.
Oh, how they be a nag!

The flow ne'er runs dry,
The dastardly sweat plight.
Doth keepeth me up
Day after flippin' day,
And nite after flippin' nite.

Yea hormones I miss
The source of my unbliss.
Til at last, I must squeegie,
The sweat that runneth o'er
Bursting forth from my each and every pore.

Will one day ye rest?
Wilt thou stoppest in thy trek?
To cause me such pain
A wet and sweaty Quirky
I doth remain.





B.S. Many sweat drops were harmed during the production of this post. Quirky wiped them away again and again. They are stubborn little sweaty suckers.