While shepherds washed their
socks by night,
All seated on the ground,
The Angel of the Lord came
down,
And passed the soap around.
“Fear not”, said he, for
mighty suds,
Had filled their washing sink.
“Persil washes whitest of all
And does not leave a stink”.
“To you, in Devizes Town this
day,
Is given a washing-line,
A tumble-drier, built by
Bosch,
And this shall be the sign.”
“An extended warranty you
shall get,
But in the smallest print,
All meanly wrapped in weasel
words,
Until you’re nearly skint.”
Thus spake the seraph, and
forthwith
Appeared a shining throng
Of Comet salesmen on the
make,
Who thus addressed their
song:
“All discounts be to you the
buyers,
Please accept your guarantee,
And if it should go wrong all
too soon,
Please don’t you bother me.”
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment