Nurse Nicole, with calmest eyes,
Moves through halls where silence lies—
Right hand steady, strong, and sure,
To Dr. Gabriel, she is pure.
Level-headed in the fray,
Guiding hearts from night to day,
With hands that heal and words that mend,
A fierce protector, faithful friend.
In every room, her kindness glows,
Like rivers where the soft wind blows,
Or streams that twist through shaded land—
She reaches out with healing hands.
She speaks in tones both firm and low,
Where pain and panic often grow,
And patients, lost in weary hours,
Feel her strength like sudden flowers.
Among green leaves and tangled trees,
She finds her peace in ocean breeze,
But never shuns the blood or bone,
The mess of life—she stands alone.
Empathy flows like summer rain,
Through aching hearts, through fear and strain,
And though the world may spin and call,
She’s busy, still, among us all.
A light in white, with soul so wide,
She walks where mortal hearts collide,
A woman made of will and grace—
The world feels safer in her place.
A name that whispers on the breath,
A healer in the halls of care,
Where shadows cling and fear holds death,
His steady presence lingers there.
With gentle hands and knowing gaze,
He charts the heart's uncertain sway,
Through intricate and hidden ways,
Where life can falter and decay.
Compassion, like a quiet stream,
Flows from his touch, serene and deep,
An empathy, a waking dream,
For those whose weary secrets sleep.
The holder of life, at times it seems,
When fragile pulses ebb and fade,
A heart beats softly in his dreams,
A life upon his skill is laid.
He sees the rivers, swift and strong,
The steady rhythm, clear and bright,
And when the currents turn out wrong,
He guides them back towards the light.
The ocean's vastness, deep and wide,
Reflects the mysteries he knows,
The surging of the inner tide,
Where health and hope again arose.
And in that space, where tensions cease,
A grateful breath, a whispered plea,
He brings a fragile heart to peace.
He never liked "Bob" - now a success
So Robert Croslin he is
Raise in Baltimore ("projects")
His mom (Aurelia) is grandma to my kids
His only son, a lawyer in DC
In his own right, now elected
Mayor of Hyattsville! (Praise God)
Once, my "good" eye-doctors place
Where I volunteered for its Literacy Council
Memories of Library, churches, New Year breakfasts!
A liveable community, a bit costly now
But memories continue to layer on
My old man,
The medicine man
Used to make me laugh
He had a remedy for everything
And it was called T.C.P
Got a graze or a cut T.C.P
Piles , Kidney stones T.C.P
Upset stomach T.C.P
Headache T.C.P
I bet if he was here today
This he would probably say
See that ************** Virus
You know what would cure that
Yes Dad
T.C.P
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Written By: Sarita A. Milliner © 8/30/16
Here is the ballad of Web MD,
Self-diagnosing terminal maladies,
My fatal afflictions linger on,
I'm buying more medical texts from Fishpond.
Let's do our own diagnosis,
Teach yourself self-hypnosis,
My fatal afflictions linger on,
I'm buying more medical texts from Fishpond.
Let's sing our ballad of Web MD,
Sure we've got terminal maladies,
My fatal afflictions linger on,
I'm buying more medical texts from Fishpond.
That was the ballad of Web MD,
What are today's self-diagnoses?
My fatal afflictions linger on,
I'm buying more medical texts from Fishpond!
It’s six dimensions, seventeen senses
The body of my text posess extra caring for death sentences
Set your alarm, cause’ it’s to late for you to adjust
The streets are too loud for crying, for help or for dazzling lust
It’s to dangerous to speak, to feel, to dream
A five minute doom from a hell’s judge and you’re no longer free
You wanna know how to stay alive?
Well, you better learn how to combine
It’s pure mathematics, not that simple, but sometimes too much easy
After all, this equation it’s already wheezy
I can assure you that no man’s poison you’ll keep you from decipher
Otherwise, pray to not get killed in the web driver viper
He doesn't play by the rules. He does his own thing.
He's a brilliant genius medical diagnostician.
When other doctors can't figure out what is wrong with you
your case then gets referred to this medical guru.
He doesn't care about his patients. His bedside manner is crude.
He cares most about solving the puzzle than he does of you,
but when it looks as if your life is about to end very rapidly
because no doctor can unravel your medical mystery,
the doctor you'll want on your case will most certainly be
the obsessive pill popping Vicodin junkie
otherwise known as the ornery Gregory House MD.
*
I logged this in the "film" category
because there isn't any category for "TV."