I got off the train,
The new town,
Where my first job was found,
A new man in the world of work.
I have a room ready,
All I want is a young man,
Looking for lodgings,
I shall put up the sign, VACANCIES.
I need to find some digs,
I look up the street,
And there in one window,
I see the sign, VACANCIES.
There he is, coming up the path,
The young man, my new lodger,
He will stay for a long time,
I will make him so comfortable.
The door opens,
There stands a lady,
Not old but not young,
A welcoming smile, for me.
“I’ve been waiting for you,
Your room is already,
My name is Mrs Shaw
You will like it here.”
“Hello Mrs Shaw,
My name is Mr Weaver,
I am sure I will like it,
It is a big house”.
I take him up the stairs,
Passed the closed doors,
To the open door at the end,
This is his room.
I walk into my room,
Clean and tidy it is,
The bed looking comfortable,
I will enjoy living hear.
“Once you have unpacked
Come down to the sitting room,
I will have a cup of tea for you,
And some cake as well”
I put my clothes away,
Make sure I look tidy,
Go passed the closed doors,
Downstairs to the lounge.
I can hear him coming,
The tea is ready,
I am sure that he will like it,
My special brew.
There is quite a sight,
Around the room are animals,
Dogs, cats and parrots,
So still, all stuffed.
“How do you like your tea Mr Wilson?”
“My name is Weaver Mrs Shaw”
“Sorry Mr Wilson was here before”
“That is alright, milk no sugar please”
“Do you collect stuffed animals?”
“After a fashion,
Taxidermy is my hobby,
Been doing it for years”
I give him his tea,
He seems to enjoy it,
I do hope so,
I prepared it well.
As I sip the tea,
There is a unique taste to it,
It seems to taste of almonds,
I have never tasted that in tea.
Good he has drunk it all,
It will do him good,
I will keep this young man,
Here in my house.
That is odd,
I feel quite strange,
As if I am going to sleep,
I must be very tired.
It is working,
His eyes are drooping,
My work is at hand,
I will soon get started.
“You look very tired Mr Watson”
“The name is Weaver”
“Why don’t you go to your room
And have a rest?”
I go upstairs,
Getting more and more drowsy,
I lay on the bed,
I fall asleep, and remember no more.
I go into his room,
He is still on the bed,
Ready for me,
To keep him forever.
I go into each room
As I go for my tools,
“Hello Mr Wilson,
You look well Mr Watson”.
“Mr Weaver will soon be here,
Such a nice young man”
I get my tools, go to his room,
My hobby to start.
It is finished,
Three young men with me forever,
I must put the sign back,
And await the next.
I pass down the street and see the sign.
VACANCIES.
-
Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 2nd, 2021 01:09
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this some years ago after seeing a program on the television.
- Category: Surrealist
- Views: 17
Offline)
Comments4
Oohhh, scary write Gold. Was the programme 'Tales of the Unexpected' by Roald Dahl? He's a weird one - creepy and strange I think.
Yes it was Orchi.
Andy
a wholesome macabre read, Edgar would have loved it I think
wonderful to see your adventurous flexibility, expressed proudly Andy!
Thank you for your kind words Mek, much appreciated.
Andy
Good story, Gold.
Thank you Jerry.
Andy
A nice tale of the macabre to accompany your music. I believe I will be especially careful if I ever see another "Vacancy" sign. A well written tale though. Kept my interest right to the end. (Np pun intended.) Very clever. - Phil A.
Thank you Phil, most kind.
You can generally find music to fit any words written.
Andy
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