John Carter Brown
A Phone Call... Please
The telephone is melting
The wife's been on all day;
I need to get a call made
But don't know how to say.
How can I gently hint at
My need, without offence?
I see the eyes, that steely stare,
The pressure is immense.
I could go to the call-box
But out, it's pouring down,
And anyway, why should I?
Oh come on Mrs Brown!
Still open lies the phone-book
Which she don't really need,
She knows the numbers off by heart
And whacks them in at speed.
By now I feel a victim
I glance, and she's on still;
I'd only be five minutes,
And, Hey, I pay the bill!
But even so she natters on
As if next week will do,
So I make for the kitchen
To have yet another brew.
Then just as I am leaving,
My eyes a 'bulge and red,
It's then she hands it over, and guess what?
The battery's dead.
John Carter Brown's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (A Phone Call... Please by John Carter Brown )
Poem of the Day
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
Paul Laurence Dunbar
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
- Heather Burns
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)