Washing Machine Poem

It may seem to you like all I think about these days is poetry, but I do promise I do have other things on my mind as well!I just seem to be finding a lot of funny/inspirational poems lately. I should actually put up some of my own stuff one of these days. Anyhow, today I have found an interesting poem about "Mrs. Brown" and her washing machine. (I am writing my own poem about a washing machine too, but it is a bit shorter in length and written in a different way.)

The Washing Machine

Mrs. Brown was quite ecstatic
About her brand new automatic.
Filled it up near to the brim,
Slipped on the soap and fell right in.

She was really on the go
Jerking wildly to and fro,
Water gurgling, rushing, flowing,
Shirts and sheets all to and fro-ing.

There among the suds and bubbles,
She reflected on her troubles.
Considered that she'd never been so,
Pushed around so much by Rinso.

So there and then, she promptly planned,
To change and use a kinder brand.
Because the water too was hot,
She'd change to Cold Power, like as not.

While Mrs Brown was cogitating,
With all her bits and bobs vibrating,
Arms and legs and dirty socks
Tangled up in soapy knots.
Her inside organs disarranged,
Quite suddenly, the cycle changed.

Now Mrs. Brown was all a-whirl.
Indeed a very home-spun girl,
Spun and sprayed to make her whiter,
In places that did not excite her,
And areas that had attention,
She doesn't even care to mention.

So Mrs. Brown is quite convinced
That to be spun and deeply rinsed,
Not once, but twice, will quite suffice
To keep her undies looking nice.
But, before they go to wash,
She thinks she'd rather take them off.

© 1955-2006 John Pickersgill

http://evenyet.net/pick/alltitles/washingmachine.htm



I might let you guys read my washing machine poem, after it is marked. I may still need to make some more changes to it.

Apple Pie

I've been trying to finish a couple of poetry assignments today. Whilst browsing the Internet today I found this yummy poem about apple pie! I have just finished a lovely slice of apple pie which was made by my Grandad, who used to be a pastry chef. :) What I particularly like about this poem is the form of the poem, the way it is shaped into a vase in the middle, and the way the writer makes apple pie sound absolutely scrumptious- which it is!

Apple Pie

Up to my eyes in cooking apples.
A bountiful harvest from
a friend’s orchard garden.
Coring and peeling,
(time stealing)
Cut into large chunks,
simmer gently, lightly sweetened.

Mmmm, what an odour
It makes the mouth water!

Up to my elbows in apple pie pastry,
careful to use a very light touch
must keep it nice and flaky.
How many will I make,
a couple of dozen?
Only one for Eric
cos he’s diabetic,
two for Margaret and Reg,
(she gave me some veg.)
and maybe Heidi and Matt,
they would like one or two.
A dozen for the Coffee Morning
to fund our local Air Ambulance.
Got to find room in the freezer too,
to keep Jim supplied, while I’m away!
Oh dear, have I kept one for me?
Roll out the pastry and fit to the dish,
Fill with apple and top with a lid.
Crimp the edges, sugar the tops,
then bake in the oven until
a rich golden brown.

Mmmm, what an odour
It makes the mouth water!

Serve with Devonshire cream
or one scoop (or three!)
of real Cornish ice-cream.
Mmmm. the odour has taste
and its very more-ish.
So what - if it goes to my waist!
Forget about diets and pass me that dish!

Jackie S Brooks ©
3^rd September 2003

http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewPoetry.asp?id=77261