Beware the septic tank …

Today is World Poetry Day and, time permitting, I may just pull one of our several poetry books off the shelf this evening and indulge in some favourite verses.

As much as I enjoy reading poetry (as does The Boss), I haven’t added this literary form to my writing, preferring the less-structured form of articles and short stories.

However, I was inspired by memories of our original septic tank to write this little limerick:

A couple who lived in a finca

had a problem that was quite a stinker;

their septic tank broke,

the smell was no joke,

so they moved to a duplex in Inca

Yes, our septic tank did eventually develop an unpleasant leak, but we didn’t contemplate a move to Inca, or anywhere else on Mallorca. We had a new modern septic tank installed, but a little further from the house – and underground. The old concrete beast still remains, redundant. It’s ugly and serves only as a place where the cats like to stretch out (probably because it’s close to where their meals are served). Whatever remains beneath will be staying there.

"No, you are not going to knock this down!"

“No, you are not going to knock this down!”