The Coughing Kettle

In a kitchen, bright with morning light, Where sunbeams danced with all their might, Stood a kettle, stout and round, Ready to make a bubbly sound.

Beside it, sat a teapot plump, Waiting for a tasty jump, Of leaves and water, hot and new, A morning brew for me and you.

And there I stood, a sleepyhead, Still snuggled in my cozy bed, But drawn by noises, strange and deep, I peeked inside, while half asleep.

*CHOO-CHOO! HACK!* the kettle cried, A steamy sneeze it couldn't hide! It wobbled on its heated base, With bubbles bursting in its face.

*CHOO-CHOO! WHEEZE!* it puffed and blew, A cloud of steam, a watery goo! The teapot rattled on the shelf, Almost falling off itself!

The kettle coughed, a mighty blast, Its lid went flying, way too fast! It spun around, a dizzy dance, Then landed in my comfy pants!

But oh, the steam, it tickled so! It wiggled my nose, from head to toe! I couldn't help but laugh out loud, A giggle burst, amongst the cloud!

The teapot chuckled, deep and low, The kettle whistled, soft and slow. The morning's cough, a funny fright, Turned into laughter, pure and bright!