Results of my reading Hofstadter's Le Ton Beau de Marot.

Darling niece, illness cease.
Being ill is a pill,
Your sickroom a dull doom.
Grant this boon: get well soon.
Use your head -- sneak from bed.
(It's no game, little dame.)
Lose your phlegm, come to Clem
And make haste, lest you waste,
to find food. Helps your mood!
Drink whole milk, soft as silk.
Eat fried eggs, chicken legs,
toast and jam, devilled ham.
Then we'll yell, "Jane is well!"
God grant peace, darling niece.

Uncle Clem --
No more phlegm!
Being ill
WAS a pill,
But I'm hale,
So made bail.
Run and shout,
"Jane is out!"
Now I'm free,
Play with me!
Fly a kite!
Pillow fight!
Horseshoes hurl,
Hula twirl,
Skip to rhyme,
Waste some time!
In the mood
for some food,
I'll toss fruit
down my chute.
As for ham,
no more jam!
I'll get fat!
Don't want that!
Loved your poem
(verbal foam)
You're a gem,
Uncle Clem.