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-
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