A Nail In the Pail, and A Shoe In the Flue — both unpublished verses

A NAIL IN THE PAIL

Nell was busy one day
at her carpenter play.
She had hammer and nails and some wood.
But on soft dirt she found
her nails simply rebound,
and the joining of wood was not good.

So she glanced all around
till a workbench she found;
moma’s bucket turned over worked grand!
So she lined up her nail
and the head did assail
one, two, three – with her hammer in hand.

Nell was down on her luck
for she found her wood stuck
to the pail with a nail through the bottom.
Nellie cried loud and strong
’cause she knew she’d done wrong,
and her mom turned her bottom red hot-em.

Now quite obviously
Nell can certainly see
holey pails won’t hold water like they oughter.
With a pail that is punctured,
the poor bucket’s defunctured.
Nell’s red bottom’s a lesson well-taught her.

A SHOE IN THE FLUE

I looked up the dark flue,
and my poor nose turned blue
from the wind as it streaked down the chimney.
I crawled into the dirt,
soot dropped onto my shirt,
but I saw light above me, by Jim’ny.

So I grasped the hearthstone,
and gave forth with a groan
as the grime clung unto my anatomy.
Raising up with some dread,
a beam cracked my poor head
and it felt like I’d had a lobotomy.

I backed out of this cave
for fresh air I did crave,
and inhaled the cold fumes in-rushing.
Now to halt this cold air
from its rush everywhere,
I must close the flue from which it’s gushing.

Icy winds filled the room
adding frost to the gloom,
and I rattled the ‘close’ mechanism.
I tried sealing this closure,
to halt double exposure,
and to restore my metabolism.

My surroundings turned colder,
so I had to be bolder,
for the room was exceedingly chilly.
I took off my left shoe,
stuffed it up in the flue,
although this may seem utterly silly.

Ahh, the room grew less cold,
And my tale’s almost told.
The room temperature rose ten degrees,
But much later, for shame,
I must take all the blame;
events happened that no one foresees.

After I had departed,
a new fire was started,
but a new fire needs air to survive.
All those present did choke
on the billowing smoke.
They were lucky to get out alive!

For the damper’s not mended,
smoke throughout the room blended,
making seeing exceedingly hard,
For as my reader knew
my left shoe’s in the flue!
For that act, I will get no reward.