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August 10, 2021

The physician, to the King’s chamber is led,
A daily chore filled with fear and dread.
A fear for his family, a fear for his head!
He must mend the King’s leg - a festering mess.
Not able to cure is not something to confess!
The stench filled his nostrils and his stomach churned
How to hide such revulsion - the physician soon learned.
But the physician he knew, he could never repair
The infection was spreading, but he hid his despair.
So to make the King think, the wound all is fine
His remedies (with prayers) he laid out in line.
And applied leeches and poultices and all manner of herbs.
An announced to his majesty, all is looking superb!
Fresh bandages applied and sweet smelling spiced adhered.
Another day is conquered, another waits to be feared!



I write this about 2000. Me being a little experimental. Read into it what you will! You will no doubt see my love of the Tudors here, used to ply my pen! Or should I say quill? This is not a snippet but the entire thing. I have included this one to lighten things up a bit! I do tend to write on the ‘dark’ side.

Louise Goodwin




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