2013/01/10 in Uncategorized
The baby grand piano
thought itself the nobility
of the furniture and fittings in the house.
It thought of itself as cultural,
not without reason of course,
as well as artistic and superior.
It was slightly out of tune, though,
but nobody noticed that.
The gas stove was a practical character,
down to earth
and always did what was required of it.
It sometimes got a bit dirty and greasy,
but that did not affect its functions.
The toilet, in spite of sometimes being derided,
was a complacent and sympathetic chap.
It had a neat wooden seat
and its white enamel
and silver fittings always sparkled.
The fact of the matter was
that Mr T was a genuine philosopher.
He had intimate knowledge of the yearnings,
joys and sufferings, ideals and angers
of the people in the house.
Nothing was hidden from him,
yet he never betrayed any secrets.
I take what is unwanted,
he mused in the aftermath of the latest flush,
but gives what everybody wants,
I give peace of mind.