This one’s for Fay Roberts.
About the hut:
She’s a sweet old thing really.
Has her little ways,
Don’t be surprised if you wake up at the opposite end of the forest
to where you went to bed.
Terrified of foxes, you see.
Bolts at the sight of them,
Which sounds silly enough given her size,
But you must remember she’s part chicken.
On that note,
You cannot be too careful with her feet.
Watch out for signs of leg mites,
bumblefoot and gout.
I find a good rub down with salve
Once a week at least
Tends to keep her in fine fettle.
I’ve written down the recipe
(Just mind you don’t mention the goose grease:
it upsets her so.)
Then there’s the eggs.
You will generally find a kennel or two lying about outside in the morning.
She’s always been a decent layer, bless her.
I usually sell them at the market
In my sweet old lady get-up.
Traditional Baltic Handicrafts, my sign says.
People will pay a good price.
It’s best to smile, and keep your mouth shut.
Have your teeth started coming through yet?
Your new ones, I mean.
You’ll find that the rust is a bit of a bugger:
Swap out your regular toothpaste for zinc.
You’ll get used to it.
The mortar and pestle.
It does tend to list a bit.
You’ll notice the dents?
The small one’s where I brace with my foot
The larger one…
Well, you’ll work it out,
It’s surprisingly comfy.
Take-off is tricky
compared to a broomstick,
But once you’re airborne, well.
You’ll never look back.
Just push off hard with the pestle.
Get the hut to give you a kick it you’re struggling at first.
You’ll get the hang of it.
Well, that’s about it!
Make sure you gobble up a few kids now and then –
Just to keep the locals on their toes
And showing the proper respect.
And if a young maiden shows up
Seeking your counsel
Eat her, or help her seek her fortune:
Your call, really.
Best of luck,
I’m off.
Do Svidaniya!
Tom Juniper Poetry 