When the Homily is about Immunology

Ummmm...did I do that?

Someone, out of the blue, emailed me and asked if I wrote this little ditty that appeared on my blog in March of 2004:

Sing a hymn to leisure:
Serve me, beguile me, make me forget.
Damnable thorns! I crush the rose underfoot,
to suffer no more the jabs of beauty’s imperative .

Wretched, that love of beauty should thus escape me.
Flying furiously past obscurity, darkness, and neglect,
to wallow in murky pools of selfish denial,
and to breath deep the waters of indignation.

My answer...maybe...I cannot recall...I attributed it to no one and I really don't have a clue what it is saying, so it must be me.