The Carpet Cleaner

The Carpet Cleaner

The carpet cleaners came

with brushes and hoses.

The odour of detergent

lingers in our noses.

They scrubbed away and washed

the curry stains and wine.

After hours of work

the carpet looked just fine.

The doors were all left open.

The windows left ajar.

The house smells like a woolly sheep.

I’m sitting in the car.

The water is condensing.

The window’s ringing wet.

The curtain’s in the spinner

and I’m sponging off the pet.

Why did I phone this man?

Why did I book the date?

Why ever did I go for this?

The house is such a state.

Tomorrow will be better.

The sun is booked to shine.

Lets open up a bottle.

Oh! Whoops, I’ve spilt the wine.

                Copyright Meg Gurney

Writer’s tale

They say you have good characters when they have a life of their own and do as they please instead of what you want them to do...

To writers’ group we weekly go

We’re told don’t tell but gently show

The characters, the place, the time,

Don’t worry though about the rhyme.

The plot like magic will appear

If character and place are clear.

I picture chap with long dark beard

And floating cape, quite naturally feared.

I put him in a graveyard, gloomy,

With gravestones and a tomb, quite roomy.

I draw on poets, authors, bards,

But all the time he just plays cards!

I bring in fog and rain and mist

But all the time the point he’s missed.

I introduce loud bangs and bumps

But he just calls “3 spades, no trumps1”

I try so hard to make it scary

But out from somewhere comes a fairy

She casts a spell to make it sunny

And they both think its rather funny.

The last laugh I will have, I’m sure

I place the graveyard on a moor

The Baskervilles who live quite near

Still have their vicious dog, I fear.

Too late, too late, we hear them cry

They both of fear will surely die.

But no, the dog just barks and plays

My story lasts for days and days.

                           Meg Gurney copyright