medical emergency - spouse got clean destine bug! 

fast as a blitzen comet, 
     this dashing prancer 
     contra dancer 
     (i.e. Rudolph nary hoof) didst zip

with cupid ditty toward his vixen wife, 
     who loosed a suppressed yip
asper one discovering remains of the day 
     from the donner 

     (newt the majority) party whip
ping her olive drab camouflage attire, 
     as if she hapt to be a vip
endlessly congratulating herself
 
     (and bow wowing her ego) bing awarded 
     the housekeeping seal of approval, 
     and expected me to tip 
her gore gee us Martha Stewart déclassé 

     snoop doggy dog rendition 
     as she did slip
agilely (with broom and dustpan in hand) rip
peat head lee uttering 

     an apropos Mary Poppins quip
booting muck can clear across to Compton 
     (wherever that might be) pip
pin like a cat on a hot tin roof, 
     where no cure existed to nip

in the bud at this stage, 
     and rid thine beloved Narberth bride, 
who caught a bout clean destine 
     feverish frenzy to make house beautiful, 

     oblivious to beseeching despair, 
     sans this husband who cried
plaintively imploring divine intervention, 
     lest extreme heroic measures 

     need be taken, thus guide
me asap before her blistered hands 
     rubbed red as tender (vittles) raw hide,
     which could find her catatonic, doggone 

     ill eagle lee flying a boot 
     like a bat out of hell, and stupefied
hence, this urgent message typed out in a huff
     for less severe invasive 

     experimental treatment truly tried
on this, that, or some other missus so and so 
     .....please pardon this abrupt end, 
     plus initial idea wide

lee differing from my initial intent won
during how to write an elegy to mister son
describing, how aye felt enervated with run
hills of beaming solar rays, oh how none

synthetic drug to bathe, 
     enhance, suffuse away mon
day moody blues, 
     and now...gotta tend tummy hun!