Moving
The furniture.
Moving around the furniture,
Turning around the tables,
Erecting a new frame,
Then boxing in the gables.
It’s all just an analogy,
The way I get things done,
The building is my forte,
Construction work is fun.
It is true, nothing’s new,
Things can turn askew,
Then turning the tables,
Is something I can do.
Push them in a corner,
Dust then sand, them down,
Polish them with bees, wax,
Really go to town.
And when it’s neat and complete,
And the job is done,
Rearrange the tables,
I can do it on the run.
Sing a song of sixpence,
And break out in song,
Do it whilst you’re sanding,
You hardly can go wrong.
Sometimes it seems so subtle,
Pinch an inch or two,
Then turning the tables,
Is all you’ve got to do.
The slips that come from our lips,
Words better unsaid,
Time to bide with the tide,
And turn the tables instead.
©
David Rudder
2024
Thank you for reading this piece and my poetry.
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