[FOsen]

She’d nagged him so, about his nagging cough,
He’d finally let her book a clinic date.
That morning, as he’d slowly tottered off,
She’d kissed his cheek and seen him through the gate.

Now here stood Doctor Grayson at their door,
His hat in hand, his visage wreathed in gloom,
To tell her, grimly looking at the floor,
That Dan dropped dead outside the waiting room.

She wept and wailed, then asked him in a voice
Which seemed to bear a world of disappointment
In fate and luck, her lot, life's Hobson's choice—
“So it’s a house-call and a missed appointment?”

Frank