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God bless the dentists, all of them who carefully tend our teeth.
They know about our cavities and the secrets down beneath.
Mine's always pleased to see me: "Can you open really wide?
I want to see what's lurking - so let's have a probe inside."
I'm in his chair, mouth open wide - Escape? I dare not try.
So it's now he asks a question and expects me to reply.
He sets about the task in hand, and shows he's very willing
To track my hidden cavity and replace it with a filling.
He's got me anchored to his seat. HELP! He's ready to attack!
Thank God it's not a filling, he's just working on the plaque.
The check's complete, the polish done, my teeth are really gleaming.
I've finished now, it's time to flee, my eyes can leave his ceiling.
"We'll see you back in six months' time" - (you'd think I'd feel a thrill)
But the meeting's made for three of us - - him, me and his big drill.
Copyright 2006