I have a case of poison ivy
That’s what’s making me so whiney
And by “whiney” I mean bitchy
‘Cause this stuff is so dang itchy.
I know the rhyme of “leaves of three”
But that assumes that you will see
The leaves to let them be.
And these dread leaves were hiding sly
Waiting to attack my thigh.
I knew that something wasn’t right
But thought, “It’s just a ‘skeeter bite.”
I thought the bugs had come to dine
I was wrong—it was the vine.
Or maybe it is poison oak?
Now there’s an itch that is no joke.
Who cares? Just get the calamine
So I can find relief sublime
And stop the itch for a short time
And ditch the poison ivy twitch.