Although I like to write a poem or two in a birthday card or on a special occasion, I’m not in the habit of publishing anything I write (outside of Ruthless of course 😉 ). Anyway, here is me putting a poem out there. It is based on a true story-
One warm and muggy afternoon I came across a gecko.
He was camouflaged against my wall, his pink was quite art-deco.
After that he disappeared but although he was out of sight,
he was still around- just underground; he’d taken shelter from the light.
One day I did a load of whites and set the wash to spin dry,
it squeaked and squealed, shook and reeled and finally stopped at standby.
The gecko must have heard the noise and likened it to his mate.
He took up camp in my laundry room and there he chose to wait.
His bark rang out- a sonic squeak, to suggest a romantic meeting,
but after days of no reply his lust for love was fleeting.
Now I hear him once a week as if to merely say
“I’m still here my dear, I know you’re near, why don’t you come and play?”
The washer serves to break his heart, its squeaking rare but wild.
My gecko is slowly losing hope that someday he’ll father a child.
I want to find and capture him so this love travesty will end.
I’d return him to the outdoor world where he’d be sure to find a friend.
But he eludes me now so he can woo his love although she remains unseen.
He still calls away and pledges his heart to my Westinghouse washing machine.