"Ode to the Cough"

Bronchitis. Oh yes. It's the new nemesis to inspiration. Or perhaps, it is the new ally. I haven't decided. You see, at times it feels that I have coughed out any scrap of originality or wit in my poor body. Other times it makes me feel fiercely satirical, which usually results in something delightfully Mark Twain of me. :D
It is not doctor-official that I have bronchitis, but my cough is definitely of that peculiar kind that is deep seated, purring, and has the woof of a dog when it bursts forth.

Joy to the world and all that.

But lest you think I have quite coughed out my sense of humor along with my lungs, I have written something of an Ode to The Cough.

"Ode to The Cough"

In ages long and long ago

There lived a wise old sage

Who thought of things and read of things

And lived to an old age.

But then one day while wand'ring bout

The sage met with a Germ,

It manifested in a Cough

And stayed with him all term.

And ever since we've coughed and cuffed,

HArumphed, and crummed and shree-ed,

We've spastic-ized and spasm-ed 

And our lungs just cried and creed.

There's never been a nobler sort

Of Germ for making ills

And causing lots of pain and oomph

And medicines and pills

So Mighty Cough

I laud you, sir, for your persistent strength,

And I hope you run amuck for years

And live to wheezy length.

There. It was all I could muster in between my own Harumphs. Hope it made you smile! :) ~Rachel