Miss Hygene
Dressed in a bonnet of dusty pink
She's looks elegant, sweet and serene
A quiet girl, but not one to shrink
When its time for the weekly clean.
She'll wash and iron better than most
Then dust and vacuum her room
There's no time to stop, even for toast
Until outside has been swept with a broom.
Some call her Miss Tidy Pants
For her place is spotlessly clean
Over her shoulder goes all their rants
Now they've named her Miss 'Hygene'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem