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Doctor Patient
by
Rusty Broadspear
'Do I fully
understand you, Dr Littlewood?'
'Forget past attacks and relax, Suzanne.
You had a perfectly normal childhood,
It was in your late teens, when it began.'
'But by then Doctor, I'd matured,
Settled, married, and Joshua was on the way.
Stuart was perfect, our future assured.
A time of blue skies - not grey.'
'Doctor, I know you're diagnosis is qualified.
I've paid more than money for this result.
But you've implied, in sessions, that I've lied,
And I take that as a personal insult.'
Doctor Littlewood silently studied Suzanne.
As they whirled around the ballroom floor.
She was young for his age. He was older than
Suzanne not by one year but two score.
As the room swung around,
She rested her head on his chest,
She loved this secure man of means,
She knew she was lucky, was blessed.
As the floor dipped and she nearly slipped,
She was aware she'd recently whined
To the man she loved. She wasn't equipped
To deal with a man so refined.
His nose nestled in red hair, so fine
And breathed in the perfume of youth.
His fingers ran the length of her spine.
He loved her - she deserved the truth.
'Suzanne, from now on, call me John,
Close your eyes, your future's with me.
And I'll tell you what's been going on
And when I've done that, I'll count to three.'
Suzanne awoke to her own movement,
Sheltered in her lover's, John's, arms.
And John smiled, held tight, with amusement
And plied her with all of his charms.
She wasn't aghast at losing her past,
Her present, the present, the now.
Leaving her home, depressed, outcast,
Family favourite, the family cow.
Discovering Stuart's affair with her sister,
However brief, it beggared belief,
Leaving a festering blister,
Years of lonesome and a mirage of grief.
Hypnotherapist John, and Suzanne,
Retired to their room in the hotel.
That's when their futures began
And from Suzanne, there was no sad farewell.
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