My dearest Mrs B

In 1999 Carol Ann Duffy brought out a collection of poems entitled The World's Wife. Each poem was addressed to or about the wife of a famous character in history or legend.

One of the tasks set on my MA  course in Creative Writing was to produce our own poem along similar lines. I chose Mr Beeton, and I wrote the following poem having done no research so it's completely fictional. For some reason I thought about it this morning. I'm not a poet but I did have very good comments from my tutors about this so I present:

My dearest Mrs B

My dearest Mrs B,

What a delight it was that you were able to 

Join us for dinner this evening.

A shame you could not stay for long

But as you say the children must learn

That needs must where the devil drives

And early to rise necessitates early to bed.

Little Tommy is now quite settled and it is my earnest hope

That you will not hold against him his tears 

(And screams) at your every appearance.

I assure you he does know who you are —

Every evening I point out to him Mama 

In the photograph on the piano in the parlour.

And, may I just suggest that Hannah’s failure 

To answer satisfactorily your questions on

Household budgeting could perhaps be put down to her

Lack of years and experience. At five I doubt if even you,

Dearest, were quite the competent you are today.

Our meal this evening was most

Charming — I can taste it even now.

Nothing surpasses good English food

And boiled tripe and onions always slips down so

Well, but, dearest, I wonder whether

The bread pudding was just a little on the heavy side?

Of course, you know your own business best,

And if you say that this is how it should be,

Far be it from me to criticise. 

On a different note, I wonder, dearest, 

If you might find time to have a word with the under housemaid.

She is most lackadaisical about her duties, 

I even caught her sitting in the middle of the day.

I hope we shall meet in the office tomorrow

But, if not, I look forward to seeing you 

At the dinner party for the Hatfields.

I remain, your devoted husband, Sam Beeton.

P.S. If you have your diary to hand,

And it’s not too much trouble,

I would be grateful if you could let me know 

A time convenient to you

For me to make my monthly night-time visit.

I would hate a recurrence of last month.