Posted in Poetry

All In A Day’s Work – A Poem For The Sunday Whirl

It’s a long time since I wrote something for The Sunday Whirl. The idea is to take these 12 words in this wordle and write a piece – most people stick to poetry. I’m not sure if you’d call the following a ‘poem’ or just me rambling – either way it was fun to write! Let me know what you think.


All In A Day’s Work

there were three of them,
spirits my old Gran would’ve called them,
bloody ugly buggers they were,
long sharp noses, greasy, straggly hair
and these great big vicious looking claws
sticking out of their hands and feet

didn’t know what to do at first,
me being just a servant like,
been in the Master’s field all day I had
picking apples, hundreds of the bloody things,
stacking them up in great piles
ready for the harvest festival next week

I was on me way home,
Master had let me off early
on account of this nasty rash I had,
all over me arms it was, hurt like hell
that’s when I saw the three of them
leaning over the cradle, peering at the baby

I ran straight back to the fields, fast as I could
the Master looked right scared when I told him
set off straight away he did, waving his sword
with a bunch of  soldiers just behind him
I heard they got there just in time
the spirits disappeared but the baby was safe

nobody’s quite sure what it was all about,
lots of whispers and everyone being real secret like,
I’ve heard loads of stories, some of them real daft
but Katie, who works in the kitchens, heard it was the uncle,
nasty piece of work by all accounts, been in exile
Magistrate’s been down looking for clues, but nothing doing

anyway, we’re all back to normal now,
harvest is over and me rash has almost cleared up,
Master gave me a shilling and a day off
on account of what he called ‘my swift action’
as for the baby, they say she’s fine, apart from her eyes
story goes they’ve gone a funny shade of red



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