Knees

Pursuing springtime walking sprees

beside our dog, beneath the trees,

I oft detected some unease

amongst the birds and buzzing bees

as echoed by flat monodies

of clicking, clacking, knocking knees

(forsooth, reversed parentheses)

resounding pained discordant keys,

confusing triplets’ twos and threes

as if the tunes were meant to tease

with awkward stilted harmonies.

I asked a doc with med degrees

if he could, somehow, kindly, please,

suggest intensive therapies

that maybe might perhaps just ease

strange syncopations such as these 

(you know, those eerie  melodies

that echo from my noisy knees)

before my family finally flees.

At last my doctor said “oh geez,

this is the worst of maladies,

so I’ll replace those  knobby knees

(they look like half moons made of cheese)

with stainless steel or manganese

or other metals such as these

as used in all such surgeries.

I’m sure the outcome won’t displease

(you’ll stand on legs, isosceles)

although there are no guarantees”.

Now that I’m fixed, I stretch and squeeze

with exercise my coach decrees

to aid me flex my new born knees;

and should I suffer agonies 

he soothes the strains with frozen peas

or cubes of ice that make me freeze

and says “I hope my expertise 

has helped to heal your injuries

and if you must, feel free to sneeze”.

With chiseled legs on racing skis,

I now can sail as does a breeze

o’er  nearby alpine apogees

(and view those sites that no one sees,

 alive in eagles reveries)

and when in Vail, win jamborees

upon my new non-knocking knees.