With itching, scratching, goop-producing eyes,

I stumble in my blindness to the loo.

I flounder through the draw’r, though I am wise

the drops are gone. Oh, what’s a girl to do?

The allergens of cat and dust and plant

are driving me to measures yet undreamt.

I hate to shop at night, but… I just can’t!

I’m overwrought, I’m suff’ring and verklempt.

And so, I’ll brave the midnight stocking crew,

and hope none see my slippers or Hulk jams

as I zip past a lady buying Scope

and hurdle crates of beets and candied yams.

I seize the eyedrops, squirting from the box–

and thus relieve my eyes of all the rocks!

Special thanks to Jen L for the subject prompt!

Got an idea for a silly sonnet? Let me know in the comments. I’ll do my best!