A Poem for the Misbegiven

“Hide it in the wardrobe?8 “No, the catch springs loose”.
“In the airing-cupboard?8 “Think of towels, you goose”.
“What about the freezer? Or the oven, at the back?”.
“And get it cracked or frozen? The stupid thing would crack”.
“Well, what about the washer? It wont be used today”.
“She’ll demand a demonstration – give the game away”.
“Underneath the bookcase? Underneath the sink?
l’m running short of options: think, Amanda, think”.

“Why did Auntie buy it? Who’d she have in mind?
A member of the family completely colour blind?”,
“She gave it first to Steven; he passed it on to Ben.
His daughter couldn’t stand ft, so Linda got it then.
She put it out for Oxfam; Susan took it back,
Passed it on to Flora, who passed ft on to Jack;
But his new girlfriend, Moira, issued a decree
Make you’re mind up, handsome; either it or me”.

“So that!s how we got landed. What time is she due?”.
“Round about eleven. How about the loo?”.
“Listen! Can you hear it? That squeaking was the gate”.
“Curses! First time that that train wasn’t late”.
“She’s passed the old laburnum – shell slow up on the slope”.
“Oh, look, she’s seen a robin – two minutes grace, I hope”.
“Well, I’ve put ft in the Hoover, it’s out of sight, I trust,
But remember, till next Monday, we’re impervious to dust”.

© Eileen Whiting

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About David Rollason

I am a writer, creative, inventive, observant, but the results are for you the reader to decide. There are things in my head constantly that I need to get out and into a readable form and this for now is my preferred medium. I am a simple being with complex workings. I am a complex being with simple logic. I am really just..... me.
This entry was posted in Eileen Whiting, Members Work, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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