Doctor Bless Your Golden Hands Poem by William H. Bloom

Doctor Bless Your Golden Hands



Doc, what's wrong with our Aunt Nell?
She just won't talk, she garbles,
And we've been thinking for quite a spell.
She just might lose her marbles.
You tell us with finality
It's Alzheimer's disease.
Thank God it's not senility,
You've put our minds at ease.
Heaven bless you, doctor dear,
You've rectified the furor,
Even thou no drugs are near
That actually might cure her.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
1 / 3
William H. Bloom

William H. Bloom

Bayshore, New York, USA
Close
Error Success