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It’s almost Christmas so here’s a little poem I’ve written about a day in the garage………

‘Twas the day before Christmas and dumped outside our door 

Was a 10 year old Astra whose engine was poor. 

The mechanics were all getting ready to leave 

But it was pushed in the workshop with a reluctant heave 

 

Their tools were all nestled all snug in their chests 

But the boss said it wasn’t quite time to go yet 

So they opened the bonnet with no hint of a smile 

And said ‘It looks like me might still be here for a while’ 

 

They cranked over the engine to see what’s the matter 

And it coughed into life with an almighty clatter 

The workshop soon filled with a haze of blue smoke 

And they looked at the boss like it must be a joke. 

 

The customer phoned and was eager to hear 

If their Astra might live to at least the New Year 

They wanted to visit relations afar 

But this wouldn’t be possible without their dear car. 

 

In the workshop the mood was beginning to sour 

They wanted to be on their way in an hour! 

James pulled out the dipstick and soon began to grin 

“The engine’s filled with oil right up to the brim!” 

 

A  call to the owner and our fears were proved right 

He’d  poured in a whole gallon the previous night. 

The poor engine was full to the top of its head 

Another few miles and it would likely be dead 

 

At the prospect of leaving they leapt into action 

The oil was drained and with great satisfaction 

A new filter fitted and engine refilled 

With the right amount added and not a drop spilled 

 

A few puffs of smoke and in 5 minutes time 

The engine was purring and sounding just fine 

The mechanics did share a look of relief 

And they hoped that their time left at work would be brief 

 

A quick spin round the block and all was still well 

No clatter, no smoke and no nasty smell 

With customer called and on way to collect 

And a bill so much smaller than the national debt 

 

Our work here now done and the workshop floor scrubbed 

The technicians are all heading off to the pub. 

The Astra is heading straight back to its house 

And the workshop is almost as quiet as a mouse. 

 

As the boss sits alone and reflects on the day. 

His thoughts turn to Christmas and of going away. 

He remembers a lesson as he sits by the heater 

WHEN YOUR OIL IS LOW, ALWAYS ADD JUST A LITRE! 

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