The Hopeful Cure
The Hopeful Cure|
Copyright © March 12, 2017 by Douglas W. Jerving.
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I'm not going to bed tonight.
I may sleep but it will be upright.
My head on my desk until daylight.
Then after dawn breaks, a hot bath.
Eucalyptus or what stuff we hath.
Steam out my lungs of this bad wrath.
If I lay it will gather again.
No tea, gin or silver, all vain,
Restore my good breath or sustain
My hope to wake next day all healed.
Instead, my days, now long congealed,
Were as my lungs had been corn mealed.
The cough is dry and rips my throat
But better that than to recoat
My lungs with slime like King James' mote
To which the witches, never kneeled,
Would fall to drown and ne’er to float.
Doug Jerving is the publisher of the NewEdisonGazette.com. You may contact him at
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