As I lay down upon your bed,
A million thoughts run through my head,
Not least of all, I have to wonder,
Why you chose to work ‘down-under’.
Was it on a Sunday, when
You heard your call to oestrogen,
Or was just an aspiration,
To give your life to lubrication.
And in that instance was there bliss,
As you leapt in - to the abyss,
Did you proclaim with beating heart,
‘I know, I’ll study ladies parts! ’
Please tell me, what is so appealing,
About legs that flop and face the ceiling
What must you think or comprehend,
As you gaze down at each rear end.
Indeed, I truly have no clue,
Why you chose the job you do,
And yet, one question stays unknown,
Do you ever take your work home?
Teedy Dawn
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-my-gynaecologist/
