Sonnet 352

Once I was a surgeon, yes, long ago….
In hallowed halls sought mysteries of life
Studied the sacred places where blood goes,
And too, the subtleties of hand upon 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 few prevail where love of god forsakes.
As gilded knight I was still proud to serve
And worthy task is not without reward,
From that stern solemn oath I did not swerve
Thus many raging rivers I did ford.
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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