Her Name Was Jeena Poem by Gordon D Wilkinson

Her name was Jeena
She was the office cleaner

Everyday at the break of dawn
She collected rubbish from the lawn

Just all part of her daily chores
Even collecting half eaten apple cores

Such a fastidious woman was she
Always on the go like a bumble bee

Everything went to her daily plan
At the end, everything was spick and span

Not anywhere a speck of dust
Even the pots and pans had no specks of rust

Office staff came and went
Never noticing how Jeena’s time is spent

Years rolled on without any delay
Until that one, final, fateful day

The dishes and pans lay where they last stood
The smell from the toilet was not so good

Waste paper baskets overflowed to the floor
On the lawn outside, there was even more

The boss’s anger threatened to explode
Red faced about to self implode

He started to rant and rave
Not the normal way to behave

His voice got much meaner
“Where” he shouted “is the office cleaner”?

Staff just looked at one another so blank
He shouted “someone call security, ” his name was Frank
Arriving on the scene, pasty faced and hair so lank

He did not know the whereabouts of Jeena
He had been there all night, and had not seen her

The office junior whose name was Joe
Was sent to clear the toilets overflow

As he opened the broom cupboards door
Lying spread-eagled out on the floor
Jeena’s body, which moved no more
It seemed she had slipped and died, upon an apple core