Fridges

There are three fridges

In my life,

If you don’t count my mother’s fridge,

That sometimes yields strange vegetables

Which she has acquired,

And knows not what with to do.

——

I don’t count that one

Because I’m not responsible

For it.

——-

My three fridges

Are at home,

At work,

And on my newest boat.

——-

I’ll start with the one at work,

It has an easy life,

I have exclusive use.

Although soon,

In the fruit season,

It will be loaded high,

With gooseberries, plums, blackcurrants, maybe mulberries, and then apples and pears, and yet more plums.

——-

Then there is the one on the boat

Which has the easiest life of all,

But it’s by far my favourite,

And the most efficient.

Reach behind the kitchen sink and you’ll find a small square wooden plug,

Which opens onto a cavernous space,

And the works bits are mounted separately.

It is powered by solar, or diesel,

But mostly solar.

And sadly

Is rarely used.

——-

This only leaves the home fridge;

A hateful spiteful monster.

At least 15 years of age.

No maker has put to it

Their name,

It produces more heat than cool,

And will one day

Burn me

In my bed.