My sweet Maria,
You are my marina,
My little ocean swell,
Are you feeling unwell?
Give me your flu,
Golden French horns
Ringing out for you ,
Fold away your cold,
Solid gold, you've glowed,
Take all your symphonic coughs,
And bury them in a box,
A coughing coffin,
Under keys and locks.

-Jamie F. Nugent