I drove to Dallas one fine day

Shopping for a crown of gold

A crown of gold should do the trick

I know this man can make a mold.

He looked and checked and made a mold

He says it has to fit just right

No mistakes this man will make

Shiny and bright, with just the right height.

He designed for me this golden crown

Nothing but the best for it

'Twas told it's 18-Karat stuff

A perfect fit, I must admit.

This man is nice but clowns around

Atop my nead, it did not go

The crown of gold was for my molar

For he's my dentist, didn't you know?

I've known this man for many a year

As many as almost forty-five

We've told tales and talked of friends

Our long-time friendship will survive.

Vina Carathers

February 6, 2001