Hobbits don’t bounce…

He heard me scream, I heard him curse,
I lay there thinking, ‘Could be worse’,
My dripping son looked pale and white…
I guess I must have looked a sight
Laid out upon his kitchen floor
Beneath the broken cupboard door.

I’d climbed, you see, to reach the shelf…
My stature will not stretch itself
To reach so high without a boost,
So, like a pigeon gone to roost,
Precarious, I’d perched on high…
And, found that like a bird, I fly.

The chair upon whose seat I stood
Had wheels… and it’s all well and good
To wedge the thing against the wall,
Preventing any risk of fall
By clinging to the cupboard door…
If it’s not screwed on anymore.

The chair slid out, I grasped and clung,
And from my perch was soundly flung,
The door still held within my hand
And wondering on what I’d land.
I soon found out, as head and back
Hit bottom with resounding thwack.

I lay there hoping it would prove
A possibility to move,
My son appeared, a hasty drape
And shampoo dripping down his nape,
He’d heard me crash with awful power
Despite radio and shower.

“I thought the wall had fallen down!”
Said he, with such a worried frown.
“You should not climb when I’m not there
To hold the ruddy kitchen chair!”
All my expletives stayed unspoken
While I checked if bones were broken.

Now, hobbits may not bounce, it’s true,
But though I may be black and blue,
And several rainbow colours more,
The only breakage was the door.
So, telling me to stay put, seated,
Towel-draped, my son retreated.

Maybe half an hour after,
From my son the sound of laughter…
Me, I’m perched upon the stool
Equipped with filler-gun and tool.
For once I’d got up from the floor
I’d thought I should rehang the door…

My son, with twisted humour thought
A hobbit of my age-group ought,
After a fall from such a height
To give up after such a fright…
But, knowing that I’d ache next day,
I’d get the job out of the way.

Now night draws in, it’s getting late,
A hobbit with a zombie gait
Whose multicoloured skin is sore,
Whose head’s not working anymore,
In need of Epsom Salted bath
Is aching way too much to laugh.

Too many bits had hit the deck
And I’ll admit, I feel a wreck.
The lesson’s clear, so here’s the deal…
Please, never stand on chairs with wheels.
And, for myself, a moral found…
There are much better ways to ‘ground’.

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at scvincent.com and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: findme@scvincent.com.
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46 Responses to Hobbits don’t bounce…

  1. Eliza Waters says:

    Good Lord, Sue, PLEEZE be careful! You really make it tough for your Guardian Angels! Hope you heal well and soon. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Great verse Sue, hope you’re not too sore.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Mary Smith says:

    Ouch! Sorry, but I did laugh. I hope you recover well and remain firmly earthbound unless someone is there to hold your chair.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Very funny piece. Glad that it wasn’t worse. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  5. joylennick says:

    Poor you, Sue. A brilliant poem but at what cost?! I bet you keep finding new bruises…Ouch. xx

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Oh no, Sue. I’m vertically challenged too and can be found kneeling on the counter to reach the top shelves. But rolling chairs??! No no no. You must get yourself a folding stool. I hope you’re feeling a little better.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Sadje says:

    That’s a real bummer. But be careful in future. I have stopped stepping on anything higher than six inches. It’s too dangerous.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Dyanna says:

    Hope the Epsom Salt bath helped! I am vertically challenged too so have something in almost every room to help me reach the high places learned that flying is okay but the landing is hard on the body padding and all.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Ohh Sue, in the blink of an eye! Sending you healing energy ❤ Great poem, but ouch… ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  10. jenanita01 says:

    I still climb up ladders and balance in unsuitable places, much to my family’s disapproval. They seem to think I am too old for all that now… I do hope the arnica takes some of the pain out of your bruises!


  11. Oh dear Sue hope you’re ok, although forgive me for smiling. Loved this, very well written! 👏


  12. Jennie says:

    Oh, no!! Glad to know I’m not the only boo-boo queen. Hope you are okay, Sue.


  13. Widdershins says:

    Bloody ouch!!! … hope you’re not quite as done in by now. 🙂


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