We never should have let her in, <br />Grendel’s mum, you said that we’d be sorry <br />If we did, but I was feeling generous <br />After several double gins <br />And when she knocked at six o’clock <br />Quick up I jumped and called “Come in”. <br />A thundercloud stood on the step! <br />It wasn’t just that she was big, <br />She was obese, with eyes the size of saucers <br />And hot breath enough to burn the curtains <br />When she coughed. Like some enormous <br />Tyrannosaurus Rex she lurched <br />Into the room sending all the ornaments <br />Flying from the mantelpiece, <br />Splintering the floorboards, frightening the cat. <br />Then she started getting nasty <br />When I asked her to refrain <br />From chewing up the tablecloth <br />And spitting out the bits. <br />The telephone was still intact <br />So I dialled nine-nine-nine. <br />When the operator asked me <br />What service I required <br />I didn’t want an ambulance, <br />I didn’t want the police <br />I didn’t want a fire engine, <br />Not one of them could cope, <br />So I screamed into the mouthpiece <br />As the monster ran amok: <br />“I need someone to slay a beast, <br />Please send St. George or Beowulf”. <br /> <br /><br />Pete Crowther<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/grendel-s-mother/
