A fever stirs, a restless mind, In tiny bodies, it’s easy to find, A rash that blooms from face to chest, Blisters rise, denying rest.
With spots that itch and burn so bright, They spread like stars through the night, On skin, they crust, and then they fall, The tell-tale sign that fools us all.
Through cough and sneeze, it leaps with ease, An unseen breeze in the air it frees, A touch, a drop, a fleeting breath, Spreading wide, it brings unrest.
For most, the storm is mild and brief, But some will bear a weight of grief. For grown-ups, weak, or mothers-to-be, Its touch can spark great misery.
Yet science fights this viral storm, A vaccine keeps our children warm. A prick, a shield, a future clear, No need for shingles' later fear.
Though varicella comes and goes, Within the body, still it grows, A dormant ghost, it waits to wake, And shingles rise when chances take.
So heed the signs, protect the young, In this battle, we’ve just begun. For varicella’s dance, though long, Can be silenced by our song.
