The Ladybirds Who Have No Spots
A Ladybird called Mrs Gresham
Suffers a severe obsession:
For though we all like tidiness
This creature cannot BEAR a mess!
The supper she will not prepare
In case the cooking soils the air,
An avid chair and table mover
Making way for her friend the Hoover:
And no one is allowed to wash
For fear of water splishing-splosh
Upon the walls, the floors, the tiles
Her children walk for miles and miles
To bath with various friends and neighbours
And after all her husband’s labours
Returning from his daily grind
Arriving home, what does he find?
Mrs Gresham by the door:
‘You’ll traipse no mud across my floors! ’
He doesn’t know what course is best,
His misses really is a pest.
‘Enough’s enough! ’ said Mr Gresham
‘you’ve really got to take possession! ’
He threw away her mop and pail
Which simply made her cry and wail.
She took the housework to extreme
Insisted that her children gleam.
Teeth must shine, and hair be knotless,
Capes and mittens must be spotless!
Comments about this poem (The Ladybirds Who Have No Spots by Sharon Jane Lansbury )
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