At Least It Wasn't An Acorn!
by
Dawn Staple
(Age: 76)
copyright 08-05-2003
Age Rating: 13 to 127
Note: This poem was originally intended to be read as an introduction to the article CROSSED BY ZORRO in the Stories section. Just didn't know if it was OK to put a poem in with a story.
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AT LEAST IT WASN'T AN ACORN!
Where specs rested on my nose
An annoying little pimple rose
Glasses sat at a weird angle
So I squeezed it and I did mangle
But still it never went away
So took it to the docs one day
"That's a skin cancer you've got"
So off to the hospital I had to trot
The next doc kept a-measuring
'Oh-dear-ing' ~ 'tut-tutting' ~ un-reassuring
"I regret that there's insufficient room,"
He said in a voice of deepest gloom
"Twixt nose and eye, you'll need a 'flap'
Of extra skin to bridge the gap."
For a plastic surgeon I was given a date
With trepidation I awaited my fate
Consultant was cool, unsmiling and precise
"A zig-zag for you!" It didn't sound nice
The op was over in an hour
Consultant less cold ~ not so dour
Explaining things that might worry me
Like weird noises from things I coudn't see
Now, it's all over, I'm ashamed of my fear
I go all to pieces when needles hove near!
Stitches now out
And swelling gone down
Can't see very well ~
So I peer and I frown
All words seem a blur
Half-imagined specks
Need more healing time
Before wearing my specs!
But it wasn't all bad ~
With pride I nearly burst
That a rakish large shiner
(Aged 71)~ was my very first!
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