At Day #12, we have the prompt: lobe. Not that many places to go with this, and one of Lynda’s more difficult word selections. But I was fascinated this week by a restaurant server who seemed to have little bits of jewelry coming out of every conceivable, visible place (and I didn’t want to think of the invisible places). Sometimes, I appear to be a grumpy, old lady … and sometimes I really AM a grumpy, old lady.
PIERCED PARTS
What is this fascination
with body mutilation
in places holes are not supposed to be?
The trend goes round the globe,
and not just in the lobe.
They’re piercing things we’re not supposed to see!
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The Temporal Lobe
What a silly name
I knew not what it was
For all I knew it was a vein
And yet the terror of the word
Strikes me now and then
Of doctors showing me a chart
Of the cancer growing in my head
A tumor on the temporal lobe
The surgeon said to me
Non-operable they said it was
The fear froze me through and through
And then I remembered the one word
My grandmother used to say
That could cure every kind of thing
That could take the pain away
And so I thought of that one word
Through chemo and the like
All the doctor’s professed a bleak tomorrow
None happy with my plight
And still I hung onto the word
A mantra in my head
To kill the temporal lobe tumor
I savagely clung to the word
And now when cure is on my chart
A miracle patient am I
My doctors pat themselves for my cure
But I see my grandmother’s word
HOPE
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