Final Friday Fiction

It's the last one for 2019.

Boy, that was a quick year. Anyway...

One day recently I was looking through some websites and spotted this little fellow...

My heart went out to him. 

"Hello, Clarke, how'd ya be?"

Oh my, on me, I'm all alone, said he, 

and I feel I have no direction for my wheels or purpose to my seat. 

What is to become of such a deadbeat???

On hearing this cry, I called back and said, 

"But Clarke, dear one, you take my heart. 

I am in need, you see, of a 'horse and cart'. 

Not for real, you know, but the equivalent kind; 

a utility to carry  my load - would you mind?"

No! No! cried Clarke, not at all, at all! 

Order me now, please do, give my makers a call!!!

Which I did, it was easy and - so quick - Clarke was here. 

Wrapped in a box that was YAM-proof, I fear! 

Pen-knife and scissors, nearly a hammer required... 

but eventually, I was in and Clarke I admired. 

He slotted together, just like his image, 

and I was sitting upon him before dad had said 'cabbage'. 

Clarke, you see, was my Christmas present from father, 

to aid me and help, as round the house I did gather 

all the washing and dishes and rubbish and such - 

yes, Clarke was my helpmeet, my rest, and so much... 

so fast he became my beloved, my rolling-stock stool, 

and forever I'll love him, he's the perfect tool. 

Assistant so strong, so worthy and fine - 

oh, yes indeed, I'm proud Clarke is mine!!!

(© Yamini Ali MacLean 2019)