Poems
Jacked Up and Jacked Off
while the lads with the spades exposed the stumps, so the house would be ready to lift.
The builders came on Friday, the house they had to jack.
They jacked it up and built new stumps and things began to crack.
The bathroom wall moved to the hall and lights shone through the ceiling.
The plumbing dripped and panels slipped and all the paint was peeling.
No showers for the next few days because the walls have parted.
We�ll all be back on Monday to finish what we started.
On Saturday I had a bath, then pulled the plug to drain.
The water gushed and gurgled out and filled the trench outside again.
Drainpipes were broken, it was quite clear. A plumber was desperately needed.
I rang the Trust and told them all. I crawled and begged and pleaded!
Hurray! At last the plumber came. It was only half past three!
He looked at the water, the pipes and drains and said as he turned to me,
"The job�s too big to do today, the pipes are certainly cracked.
Don�t have a bath for a couple of days and on Monday I�ll definitely be back."
The plumber said to have no bath, the builder said no shower.
In all my life I never knew that men could wield such power.
The builders arrived on Monday to patch up the house some more.
"It�ll take about an hour," they said, but they didn�t finish till four!
With hammers and nails, timber and saws they patched up the walls and the ceilings.
The mud and the mess they easily ignored and the same could be said for my feelings.
The plumber came on Monday. He arrived quite late in the day.
He fixed only one broken drainpipe and said that on Tuesday he�d be here "all day!"
The plumber came on Tuesday. He didn�t arrive till noon.
He was called away ten minutes later, "Emergency! I�ll be back real soon."
He arrived once more on Thursday and attempted to fix the drain.
He couldn�t reach it from outside the house, so had to consult with his boss again.
He returned again on Friday, with permission from the Trust,
to knock a hole in the side of the bath. To repair the drain, he must.
He smashed his way through bricks and mortar, �til he found the rotted floor.
He pulled out the wood with only his hands, repaired the drains and walked out the door.
"Next week the tiler will finish the job. Don�t worry about the holes.
He�ll patch them up as good as new and you�ll no longer smell the mould.
Saturday morning, bright and early, Hubby showered before work.
The bathtub dropped, with an almighty bang, through the floor and onto the dirt.
On Monday we called the Inspector, who said with a most worried pout,
"We�ll have to replace the old floorboards. It means the bath must come out."
Back came the plumber on Tuesday. He had to remove the tub.
Hubby decided to give him a hand, as it was too heavy for one man to lug.
The builders came to put in new boards. The jokes came thick and fast.
About a man who traveled in style and a tub with a checkered past.
The plumber spent the next five hours rolling around in the corner,
While he jacked up the tub till it fitted the walls, then he propped it with bricks and with mortar.
He returned on Wednesday to finish the job, so the bathtub was fully cemented.
I watched as the buckets dripped onto the carpets. No wonder I�m nearly demented!
We waited a week for the tiler, to build the wall round the bath.
When he finished the bricks he put on white tiles, but not on the floor! That�s a laugh!
The renovations are finished! The workmen have all departed.
I look round the house with a grimace. It�s worse now than when they started.
There are things too numerous to mention, that have not found a place in this poem.
But this final verse will show how I feel. "PLEASE, PLEASE, give me a new HOME!"
Copyright Merryly
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