David Lewis Paget

(22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

House Proud!

I only wanted a quiet life
Was the first thought that I had,
When the woman beat on my cedar door,
I thought that she must be mad.
She beat and beat, and would not retreat
Though I begged her just to go,
But she cried, ‘He’s going to murder me,
You must let me in, I know! ’

I peered out through a crack in the door
Just to see the woman’s face,
Her lips were bloody, her eye was black
And the tears had left their trace,
I groaned I wouldn’t become involved
But knew in the end I would,
I opened the door and let her in,
Her hands were covered in blood.

‘Don’t drip that blood on the carpet! ’
She just turned to me with a shrug,
‘I’ve taken the carpet cleaner back
I borrowed to clean the rug! ’
Too late, too late, as she smeared the blood
All over my pristine wall,
‘Are you callous or just plain crazy?
He’ll be coming to kill us all! ’

‘Then why did you come to me, ’ I cried,
‘There’s a hundred doors out there,
Go pick on another married fool
With a life lived in despair.
I never fell for the gender trap
For it always ends like this,
A bottle of Jack with a drunken lout
Who had promised married bliss.’

I steered her into the bathroom, ran
The taps as I heard him roar,
‘Come out you blanketty wilful witch
Or I’ll have to beat down the door! ’
My cedar door with the frosted glass
That I only installed in June,
I heard a splinter, and then a crash
As he burst on into the room.

I pointed the shaft of the toilet brush
At him, from under a towel,
‘I’ve got a gun and I’ll use it! ’ But
All that he did was howl.
A bullet whistled on past my head
And shattered the shower screen,
‘I swear I’ll blow you to Kingdom Come
If you don’t come now, Doreen! ’

‘For God’s sake, give it a rest, ’ she said,
As she washed the blood away,
Wiped her hands on my nice clean towel
As I groaned in my dismay,
He put the gun in his pocket, dropped
His head and began to weep,
‘Is this the guy you’ve been seeing then? ’
‘What him? The guy is a creep! ’

‘He’s more concerned with his carpet
Than a lady in distress,
I’d rather you with your Looney Toons
Though you tend to make a mess.’
She walked on up and she kissed him
And they walked out hand in hand,
‘Who’s going to pay for the damage, then? ’
I called, but they had gone.

I never answer a beating door
No matter how long they knock,
I call out, ‘Sorry, I’m not at home, ’
As I click the fifteenth lock,
A beaten wife is a world of strife
For the man who intervenes,
The bodies may pile outside my door
But I keep my carpets clean.

14 February 2014

Submitted: Friday, February 14, 2014

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (House Proud! by David Lewis Paget )

Enter the verification code :

  • Rookie - 291 Points Cynthia Buhain-baello (3/2/2014 3:46:00 AM)

    Excellent David, and the scene painted by your words really brought out the laughs - brilliant write, flow, humor, and story. Great title too! +++++++10 (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

PoemHunter.com Updates

Poem of the Day

poet John Clare

I love to see the old heath's withered brake
Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze and ling,
While the old heron from the lonely lake
Starts slow and flaps its melancholy wing,
...... Read complete »


Modern Poem

poet Grace Paley


Trending Poems

  1. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  2. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
  3. Invictus, William Ernest Henley
  4. A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
  5. Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
  6. Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
  7. A Thing of Beauty (Endymion), John Keats
  8. Death is Nothing at All, Henry Scott Holland
  9. Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
  10. A Child's Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas

Trending Poets

[Hata Bildir]