WOMAN WHO BOUGHT A SHADOW

WOMAN WHO BOUGHT A SHADOW

Mabel went down to the jumble sale
With fifty pence and a shopping bag,
She bought one vase, a knitted whale
And something wearing a little price tag.

It lay on the floor beneath a chair,
As flat and black as a winter’s night,
The lady said, “There’s a shadow there,
It’s second-hand, but it works all right.”

Mabel laughed and took it home,
She thought it might brighten up the hall,
But the shadow didn’t like being alone
And started climbing the kitchen wall.

It danced with the mop at half past two,
It wore her hat and stole her cake,
It waved at people Mabel never knew
And frightened the postman wide awake.

It followed the dog but not the cat,
It hid in cupboards and under the bed,
It made itself tall, then squashed itself flat,
And stood on its hands instead of its head.

“Behave yourself,” poor Mabel cried,
“You’re nothing but trouble and cheek!”
The shadow folded its arms with pride
And refused to speak for nearly a week.

Then one dark night the lights went out,
The wind pushed open the garden gate,
Mabel heard somebody creeping about
And realised help might come too late.

But her second-hand shadow grew ten feet tall,
With enormous shoulders and hands like spades,
The burglar screamed and dropped it all,
Then ran like thunder through the shades.

Mabel smiled as the shadow shrank,
And poured them both a cup of tea,
“I judged you wrong, so I must thank
The strangest friend who protected me.”

It raised its cup though it had no lips,
Then danced till morning across the floor,
And Mabel bought it chocolate chips
At every jumble sale after that day.

So if you find a shadow for sale
And somebody says it’s troublesome too,
Take it home inside your bag,
It might be the best friend waiting for you.