Maid In Heaven Poem by Howard Camner

No one's sure how she got the job
Some say it was a train wreck
Others claim Old Scratch lost his queen
Either way, she keeps the place immaculately clean
She fluffs the clouds, sorts the saints,
and rearranges rainbows
She shines Big Daddy's shoes, waxes wings,
and polishes halos
She oils the hinges on the Pearly Gates,
climbs the stairs, files prayers,
empties an eyesore, sweeps the floor,
and garnishes the facade right to the core
She draws His bath, mops up mishaps,
delouses liars and purifies pagans
She scrubs sinners, wipes off Wiccans,
and dusts the drapes every other Thursday

No one's sure how she got the job,
but it's hers for eternity

So if you ever feel like God's not looking down on you -
I'm sure He wants to
But lately there's been a lot of muck and mire
between here and there

and she doesn't do windows