A snurdle-urdle-urdle

Is walking up my path,

He’s ringing on my doorbell

And asking for a bath.

 

I don’t know how much water

This strange creature may use.

I offer two fluffy towels

Enabling him to choose.

 

He cheerfully takes them both,

And turns on both the taps.

Uncertainly, I leave him,

He should be fine – perhaps!

 

Ten minutes have now gone by,

Water’s on the ceiling.

I feel drip, drip on my head

And a sinking feeling.

 

My light goes crackle and bang

As I rush up the stairs.

I now have no electric,

The snurdle’s saying prayers!

 

“Turn the taps off, please!” I shout.

“Chill out, my girl,” says he.

“I do this in every house,

It’s so much fun, you see.”

 

Do I laugh out loud at this?

Or cry like a baby?

Pretend it’s not happening?

Or blow my top, maybe?

 

A week has now come and gone

Since this dreadful event.

I never knew such chaos,

Was I glad when he went!

 

He gave me so much to do

And did he have a cheek!

My house dried out in the end

But it took me all week.

 

A snurdle-urdle-urdle

May venture up your path.

Just leave him on the doorstep,

Don’t let him take a bath!!!

 

© Lynn Dye 15.07.2007

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