Romantic Interlude during a Hike and its Aftermath
The sickly boy and red-haired lass
Were resting ‘neath a tree’s dark shade
Beside a steep and winding path
That twisted upward to a glade.
“Fair lass,” said he that felt so ill,
“Methinks I’d like to kiss thee here
Beneath this tree that guards this hill—
‘twould make me smile ear to ear!”
“Oh silly boy,” the redhead cooed,
“I’d fain thy lusty heart inspire
With kisses as when thou first wooed
Me ere thy sickness stole thy fire…”
“But what?” asked he. “Oh, what can be?
Oh! Dost thou need a change of cast—
Or maybe just a break from me?
Please say, and I will take thy shaft!”
“I’ll love thee till the day I die—
And swift that day will surely come
If osculation we now try.”
“Suits me my lusty, lovely miss,”
Declared the standing, sickly boy,
“I’ll risk thy death, for sure thy kiss
Will cure me—not thy life destroy.”
“Okay,” said she with scarlet hair,
“I’ll press my lips against thy two—
Although they seem a pallid pair.”
And so she did and got the flu.