The Dentist ©
Wild blows the breeze in my memory,
like a fire across the heath.
As shadows fight for supremacy,
then tears blanket relief.
The seat that beckons such comfort,
and a light that pierces the soul.
Then the metal grasps one of the molars,
and struggles as it begins to troll.
Blood spatters into the drip dish,
as a four pronged fang hits the floor.
"That won't taste any more candy!"
then reaches in to pull out more.
I run my tongue round my cake 'ole,
and feel both the now bleedin' gums.
With aching holes like wee volcanoes,
and gums like pulverized plums.
But now I look like bugs Bunny,
wi' two fangs at the front gleaming white.
My grand kids thing I'm a werewolf,
and when I grin they run off in fright.
We don't sport a mirror in our house,
who wants to be reminded of time?
That sneaks along like a night robber,
painting teeth wi' gunk stains and grime.