Dr. Fogg & Sir Daniel presents..

The Masters Dying.

In Dr. Fogg's poetry on August 15, 2010 at 12:14 am

“Quick, quick, send for Doctor Dick,
the Masters dying the Masters sick.”
The chambermaid raced through the massive hall,
Pantry maids, Butlers, heeded the call.

The Kitchen, hub of all things gossipy,
preferring tit bits to the latest recipe.
Soon heard the news that Master was poorly,
Old cook said, “we’ll miss him sorely.”

The stable boy rode like a man possessed,
on the Butlers instructions he rode his best.
“Take Master’s stallion he is the fastest,
and don’t be a’dallying or twill be your lastest.”

Doctor Dick was rising, to morning a’new,
hearing outside such an awful to do.
Stable boy banging his old oak door,
“Doctor oh Doctor come quick I implore.”

The Doctor harnessed the pony and trap,
grabbing his bag and medical cap.
Picking up various balms and lotions,
leeches, pills, and palliative Potions.

Tearing through the little town,
villagers waking and looking around.
The stable boy shouted “the Masters dying,
follow us now if you think I’m a’lying.”

The carpenter heard them to his despair,
he was making the Master a Chippendale chair.
“Were changing the plans he said to son Robin,
bugger the chair, it’ll now be a coffin”.

Back at the hall, all were a’rushin,
boiling hot water from saucepans a’gushin.
Getting clean sheets so the Master looks good,
building up fires with plenty of wood.

“He’s comin he’s comin” the under maid screeched,
“right through the main gate, I can hear horses feets.”
The Doctor pulled up, the pony a’sweating,
the doorman said “it’s too late I’m a bettin.”

Up the grand stairs the Doctor did race,
wondering just what he was going to face.
In darkened room, Master lay in his bed,
“we think he’s a goner” the housekeeper said.

The Doctor demanded the curtains be open,
“all you people must go I’m a hopin.”
”I have to examine this poor dying man,
it looks pretty bleak but I’ll do what I can.”

Twenty or more now outside the room,
old Dick began his exam with impending doom.
Looking for symptoms to give relief,
but preparing to give the staff news of grief.

From inside the room came a terrible sound,
a fart so enormous it echoed around.
The Doctor staggered out, saying.” t’is my suggestion,
the Masters just suffering severe indigestion.”

Dr Fogg.©

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