IN THE DENTIST'S WAITING ROOM

In the dentist's waiting room
An all pervading sense of gloom
My palms are sweaty, my brow is damp
My butterflies have turned to cramp.
Bare moments since I rang the bell
Upon the cusp of my own hell,
A nurse in a mask threw open the door
My courage shattered upon the floor.

A sight I would most often cheer
A gorgeous blonde in nurse's gear,
Yet any thoughts of laddish lust
Are turned by fear to nought but dust.
The room next door, a drill lets rip
A quiver strikes my bottom lip,
An inner voice cries 'run man, run!
There's time before that patient's done.'

The thought of flight is taking hold
But, alas, the bell has tolled,
The nurse she says 'it's now your turn'
My dreadful fate I must now learn.
This demon cloaked in long, blonde hair
Has led me to the dentist's chair,
Like a man condemned to die
I take my place, prepared to fry.

The devilish dentist, he says 'open wide'
He picks and prods and probes inside,
'Dear, dear, dear,' he says with a tut
Terror strikes deep into my gut.
'You need a new filling, it shouldn't take long,'
He says 'it's nothing'; I say he's wrong,
The drill starts again with a sickening whine
The nurse says 'don't worry, everything's fine.'

The ordeal takes ages (five minutes at least!)
Then from my torture I'm gladly released,
'Rinse' says the dentist. 'Have a good sloosh.'
I spit, then I pay, then I leave with a 'whoosh'.
Out through the doorway on cheetah like feet
Buoyed by relief I rush into the street,
My joy though is tempered as I close this rhyme
'We'll see you,' he said, 'in about SIX MONTH'S TIME! '

Copyright D M Pamment 2009