Heal Thyself O Patient: Part Viii

Not wise to his odd wisdom-wafting air, I felt guilty for me, and penitent, A passing dream had turned into nightmare, I pressed him to explain— doc to patient, ‘A graveyard, say, infection on the run, ‘A cyst forming up much like a safe fort, ‘It's Nature's marvellous li'le precaution— ‘A compromise, settlement out-of-court'! The pain, impervious, persisting again, The cyst was surgically snapped from root, Biopsy tests still coming with no clue, Cyst gone, gone had the never-say-die pain, Gone was its cause, leaving its marks so mute— A safeguard root treatment— tabs, and pricks too! _________________________________________________ This is a sequence of nine sonnets on one theme. See the note at end of the last poem. ________________________________________________________ Sonnets | 10.11.12 | Topic: body, nature, healing, doctor, patient