Mr. Taylor

Probably a polar bear was not a good choice
for my first attempt at whittling. 
A hamster would have been simpler
and avoided the multiple leg fractures.
“Don’t worry, girl. No problem,” Mr Taylor said,
when I showed it to him.
“Leave it to me. 
Bit o’ plastic wood, 
That’ll soon sort it.”
And it did.
The tail was more challenging.
But all was not lost, just the tail,
and I managed to convince the Examiner
that polar bears don’t have tails.
Maybe they don’t.
I’m no expert.
I progressed slowly, and probably
a rocking elephant was not the best choice
for my Final Piece.
There was a lot to cut out,
a lot of curvy bits.
The huge, electric saw bench
loomed ominously in the corner.
“Don’t you go near that, girl,”
cried Mr Taylor if I glanced in it’s direction.
“Here, give it here, 
Leave it to me. 
There you are.
Now just a bit o’ plastic wood...”
And then disaster!
Someone stole the rockers.
Who the fuck would steal my rockers?
They never rocked very well.
But even so, they were better than nothing.
And Mr Taylor was hard pressed
to make new ones
in time for the exam,
even with multiple,
“No problem, don’t worry, girl”s, 
I was concerned.
But in the end, we both passed.

- Lynn White

Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by social justice and events, places, and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy, and reality. Her poem, “A Rose For Gaza” was shortlisted for the Theatre Cloud War Poetry for Today competition 2014. This and many other poems have been widely published in recent anthologies and journals such as Apogee, Firewords, Pilcrow & Dagger, Indie Soleil, Light, and Snapdragon.