John Fenworth (1650-1690)

I lived in Edinburgh during the Black Plague
My occupation, a well off Plague Doctor
Trying to heal victims of the Black Plague
Mostly removed dead bodies from homes
And buried their rotting, stinking corpses
Took their precious belongings as well
Got rich on those and my high salary
My garb, a black cloak and a bird beak mask
A cane to examine patients, cauterize wounds
Strong Herbs in the mask, incense in the beak
Cloak greased with fat and wax kept fleas away
Bird mask didn’t save me, plague seeped in
Died a horrible death from the plague in 1690

Bob Boyd

Author: BobBoyd

79, cancer survivor, work out 3 times a week, ride exercise bike 60 minutes daily. Kundalini energy rising since age 27, began writing poetry October 2023. Pisces, which may be why I have fish for pets, read and listened to many NDEs, Shared Death Visions, and Death Bed Visions, see death as the awakening of a lifetime and the ultimate relocation. View all posts by BobBoyd