What’s Bugging Her?

Absorbed by books, she never looked up,
Nor saw the bug fall in her cup.
She drank it down and then felt sick.
My gosh, I hope it wasn’t a tick!
It made her writhe; it made her squirm.
Do you suppose it was a worm?
Whatever it was, it wasn’t nice.
It bit her once; it bit her twice!
And then her stomach quite rebelled.
I will not tell you how that smelled.
She’s better now, or so I’ve heard,
And back to reading, undeterred.