Song of triumph
When I wake on winter mornings
and the central heating's failed,
I ignore the alarm's warning
until my bladder has prevailed.
Then I take my fur lined slippers
and I don my fleecy jumper,
run to where the air is crisper,
touch the cold seat with a whimper.
When the thermostat is working,
and the outlet pipes have thawed,
another problem must be lurking
through the airing cupboard doors.
So I grab my handy flashlight,
kneeling slowly on bathroom floor,
where the pressure guage is in sight,
needle indicating flaw.
Undeterred I reach towards it,
grasping valve with firm cold fingers,
and I turn the plastic widgeet
until the central heating triggers.
Then I head to work with wonder,
this woman conquers all she sees,
never will accept surrender,
never will accept defeat.