As I lay down upon your bed, <br />A million thoughts run through my head, <br />Not least of all, I have to wonder, <br />Why you chose to work ‘down-under’. <br />Was it on a Sunday, when <br />You heard your call to oestrogen, <br />Or was just an aspiration, <br />To give your life to lubrication. <br />And in that instance was there bliss, <br />As you leapt in - to the abyss, <br />Did you proclaim with beating heart, <br />‘I know, I’ll study ladies parts! ’ <br />Please tell me, what is so appealing, <br />About legs that flop and face the ceiling <br />What must you think or comprehend, <br />As you gaze down at each rear end. <br />Indeed, I truly have no clue, <br />Why you chose the job you do, <br />And yet, one question stays unknown, <br />Do you ever take your work home?<br /><br />Teedy Dawn<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-my-gynaecologist/