Carpet Poem by Julian Takali

William's carpet was his pride and joy
A linen of dreams, it, he adored
A tapestry of wonder, who could want more?

Upon the beauty of his, he placed a table, rocking chair and tea
Sat reading, the day did as a page- -waded away as did he

Pure in style yet sinewed in design
Coated by a mystery of a crime
From that day, when the ground danced
Staining the carpets romance

O' how the floor shook
Knocking from his shelf almost every book
Fell the plates in the kitchen, soap in the bath
Most he owned felt the earthquakes wrath

All was well- -till he saw- -the tea in his cup- -spill over the edge- -right upon the- -perfect carpet

William scrubbed and rubbed the whole night
Trying to clean the blood from the white
But the liquid seeped in and wouldn't budge from within
Curse he did the tea now in its skin!

To the town wash he hurried away
"Please return my carpet by the end of the day! " And so they did as he said
Washed and cleaned till' the smear had gone dead
But it lived somehow..a hue of red

Stricken in awe the workers arrived
"We're sorry Mr., ...but the blemish survived"

William in grief layed the carpet again
As he still adorned his cloth like friend
Sadly, the pure snow he once sat on before
Was now stained as are the stories of war...