SHRIEK

SHRIEK

Shreik! the leak in yonder pipe,
is permanently dripping,
run go fetch a bucket,
for its running rancid water,
of a funny sort of green.

with the cellar door ajar,
it will air the scene to dry,
and the straw upon the floor,
will soak excess.

a netting hung from nails,
to the pegs above the frame,
a spade can hold the middle,
for the draught.

then the flies can stay outside,
the wasps stay in their hives,
they hang from all the rafters in between
I'm always banging into them unseen.

the snowplough lent against the wall of grey,
its painted handle always in the way,
if you step over the ash and the clay in that black sack,
you'll find what you are looking for today.

and that's the bit of rag,
you see up high above the sill,
its a horrid sort of grey but fits the job,
we can bung it in the hole for temporary control.

then fetch the blooming plumber,
when the time is right for that;
oh pass the pliers please I'll try myself
they're up there on the rickety brown shelf.