Sonnet 352

Once I was a surgeon, yes, long ago….
In hallowed halls sought mysteries of life
Studied the sacred places where blood flows
And too, the skills of hands that draw the knife.
I learned that I could not cure all disease
For, like the devil, many forms it takes,
There oft the grandest skill did but appease—
For who prevails where love of God forsakes?
A gilded knight, I was still proud to serve
And worthy tasks are not without reward,
From that stern solemn oath I did not swerve
And many tribulations I did thwart.
No greater calling than a life to save;
No greater burden than that snake bound stave.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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