Today’s poem

A MAN CALLED FRED

My washer ceased to function It just would not work at all, So I telephoned a man called Fred And asked if he could call. Fred called around on Sunday Took a look then shook his head, ‘It’s a very old contraption And I fear it may be dead.’ But Fred went and got his toolbag, Took the screws out from the rear, As he looked inside his smile was wide, He’d fix it, not to fear. So a new part was installed And after test runs it was clear That my faithful friend was working And it didn’t cost me dear. So the moral of this story, If you think your washer’s dead, Is to look in your directory And find a man called Fred.