Ballade to a Dentist by H S MacKintosh

[trinkie]

Ballade to a Dentist
by H S MacKintosh.


Not for the instruments of this, your trade -
The pick, the whining drill, the probe and screw,
Not for the needless havoc you made -
The broken tooth patched up with dental glue;
Not for the perfect hell you put us through,
But for the fulsome sympathy you shammed,
The line of piffling prattle you pursue,
For this shall your immortal soul be damned.

Not for the work half-done, the tissues flayed,
Nor for the spotless molars that you drew
To find out if the roots were bunched or splayed,
Nor that you left us impotent to chew
Our daily bread; but this shall be your due
Because you quoted Kipling while you rammed
Right to the nerve some poison that you brew;
For this shall your immortal soul be damned .

Not for the lies wherewith you have betrayed
Our mouths to torment, and although you knew
Your "This won't hurt" made Ananias' shade
Turn green, yet not for that Hell gapes for you;
But since on one who had good cause to rue
Your handiwork last week, your door was slammed
Because you had a long week-end in view,
For this shall your immortal soul be damned.

Envoi
Prince, to relieve my pain, the most you'll do
Is this : "Next Thursday, though your day is crammed,
You'll try to fit me in at half-past two" -
For this shall your immortal soul be damned.

[Lavenderblue2]

Now I really like this one Trinkie - sometimes I can go to the dentist without a second thought and others I get a bad case of the collywobbles.
Of course the subject is very topical - our mutual friend and I were only speaking about dentists on Tuesday morning over coffee.


LB

[Sporran]

Trinkie, that poem hit the nail (or should I say tooth?) on the head, lol!

As coincidence would have it, my husband has a dental appointment today, Thursday, at half-past two!