Up in the Dumps, comic poem 162 by Angela Lansbury

Renovation site with attractive arched windows. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Litter bins, old style and new kiddie style. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.
 

When others feel down in the dumps

I feel happy, up in the dumps 

Each day's a new-found pleasure

Hunting treasure, down by the dumps

My best photo's upside down

You can't see what I want to show

'Just turn your head,' I've always said.

So what went wrong? -  I do not know

I find a shoe box

Two half pairs of socks

Scales which won't weight

And a broken clock

And a suitcase, a bit dirty

With broken locks

A scurry and hurry

To leave my crime scene

I hope nobody knows

What has that camera seen?

Look at that! I look every day

My treasure's what they throw away

They are careless, impatient, blind 

To the fact they're being so kind

Every habit grows is a habit

Which forms an acquired new taste

I'm feeling smug, convinced myself

I'm almost a saint, saving waste

Even when there's no shining sun

So long as it's not hard raining

I take my brolly to the dump

I'm smiling, I'm not complaining

My husband rebukes me

He says, admit, you're a hoarder

I think it's high time

That you set these rooms in order

I sneak back, creep back, I'm heard, caught

'Hi, what have you brought back today?'

'Nothing at all - er - just something small ...'

I rush off to hide it away

So I start to sort

So what if I'm a hoarder!

I recall what I was taught

Create order from disorder

Wipe up the dust, sweep away hairs

Make sure everything's clean

Lift the rugs, move tables and chairs

Run the new washing machine

The new one plays a little tune

To say the washing cycle's done

It's funny, happy, futuristic

Music, comic, oh what fun

Don't hang wet clothes inside closed rooms

Because the result, so I'm told

Is condensation, water pools

In three days you're growing black mould

Forget your fears, forget your tears

Keep busy, you've a job to do

Organizing every small thing

Pencils, and words, masks against flu

Boxes, pyramids in sizes 

The shoes are straight, in pairs

Cushions neatly spaced on sofas

Covers, tied onto the chairs

I have a grandchild

She's only a toddler

So I've so much to teach her

So much to explain to her

She'll know so much more

Than I did, when she's older

Shell throw, or save

But be even bolder

While I am swimming

The day is dawning

A poem's beginning

The lines of rhymes are forming

Writing is like swimming

If you do it every day

Words like wild flowers

Decorate the way

I'm not a good swimmer

But not a beginner

I can speak all day on Zoom

A featured speaker, after dinner

A rhymer's not a sinner

I'm an explainer

But I choose to amuse

An angelic entertainer.

What more do I need

I could use more pay

Then I could pay a cleaner

Now that would be the day

If I have a lot of friends

I need only one

To step forwards to help me

To get each job done.

-ends-