Charlie Brown | Poetry

Patricia Preece, Preston

He sits inside my kitchen cupboard
as quiet as a mouse!
I don’t use him very often
He doesn’t rule the house.

I adopted him thirty years back
From a catalogue I ran!
He’s tiny is my Charlie
And better than any pan.

His coat is brown and made of pot
A ceramic earthenware style
His lid is thick and all so cute
I wash him once in a while.

A few days back I brought him out
And put some chicken in him
I plugged him in his light went on
“Well done my Charlie Brown”

He’s cooked casseroles and broths
With lamb and chicken stews
And beef and veg and big ham shanks
To mention but a few.

He’s been a little friend to me
As close as one could be
I couldn’t ask for any more
After all these many years.

Yesterday I went to wash him
My eyes had seen it all
His lid was cracked and no mistake
Broken to the core.

“Oh Charlie Brown you’ve let me down
whatever can I do?”
We’ll have to live on salads
No more chicken broth or stew.

No pans do I possess as such
Only a frying pan
That must be 50 years old or more
Useless like my old man.

His days are finished now
He’s really in a grump
Charlie was my slow cooker
Now he’s heading for the dump.