My contribution to SIMPLY SNICKERS this week.
IN THE RED
Even the aristocracy have times when funds run short!
Well, I think it happened to Sir John, though he was such an 'old sport'.
He woke one summer morning with a mad desire to paint;
In fact the urge was so intense it made him feel quite faint.
He hurled himself out of his bed in a mad artistic rush
Eager to do his magic with a paint-pot and a brush.
But when he reached his studio, and opened wide the door,
He found it had been invaded by his favourite Labrador!
The dog had been locked-in at night and had really gone berserk!
Of course, Sir John's first instinct was to check on all his work.
Nothing had been spoiled at all! Oh what a great relief!
But he viewed his store of paint-pots with a wide-eyed disbelief!
The dog had knocked them over! They were running on the floor!
Being a toff he merely said 'You naughty Labrador!'
(It's likely you and I'd have said some words much more expressive,
Because the lower-classes are inclined to get aggressive!)
The paints ran like a river of multicoloured hues,
A sort of muddy mishmash of reds and blacks and blues.
A flunky soon was summoned to clear-up all the mess
And soon the studio was clean, well, fairly, more or less.
Once more the urge to paint came on, but could Sir John begin?
Without the paints to paint with he simply could not win!
He felt down in his pocket; to buy more was his plan.
But he found his funds would only stretch to just one single can!
'Now that's damned inconvenient' the luckless painter said;
'What a day to realise that I am 'in the red'!'
His heart was very heavy; he felt life was unkind,
So he strolled into the garden to try to ease his mind.
And there, upon a rose-bush, he spied the reddest bloom,
And, suddenly he said 'Whacko!', relieved of all his gloom.
'I'll send Jeeves to the paint-shop to buy a can of red!
This rose is an inspiration!' That's what the artist said.
By the time the hurrying Jeeves returned, Bertha, the scullery-maid,
Had been dressed-up as a lady, in finery arrayed!
One of Milady's dresses, a dark red, rich and deep,
Had been pilfered from her wardrobe. (Milady was asleep!)
'See! I've the ideal canvas, a new one, clean and fresh!
I'll leave that bare when painting the naked bits of flesh!'
So Bertha sat serenely in Milady's favourite chair,
And she really looked quite elegant as she languidly sat there.
'One final touch!' the artist cried ' To complete the perfect pose!
Jeeves! Go into the garden and pick me the perfect rose!'
And here you see the finished work, considered rather fine,
Painted in all its redness, like a glass of good port wine.
'That was a stroke of luck! What, what!' Sir John was heard to say,
The day that I got 'in the red' became my lucky day!'
(Dear artist friends, don't write and say 'He needed black and yellow!'
Don't forget, he was a toff, and a very clever fellow!)