Whatever I say about my sloppy cleaner
will sound very familiar
to all those who’ve had to suffer
somebody similar
Before she arrives
I have to tidy up the place
just in case she misplaces any of my personal effects
Then again, I have to clear up, after her
because, although I leave explicit instructions
she doesn’t seem to follow many of them
She skives off with her dosh
before I return from work
True, she hoovers
And, throws out the rubbish
But, my grouse is that
all she does is scratch the surface
She doesn’t notice the cobwebs
I have to clear them away myself
She doesn’t keep nooks and crannies clear
unless they’re specifically pointed out to her
The dust lies unruffled on my picture frames
and, there the dust will remain
until the next time she shows her face
But, that doesn’t mean she’s going to do
what she’s employed to
She’d much rather tune my radio to her liking
than concentrate on anything so menial as dusting
So, you may well ask
why I put up with my cleaner
I don’t exactly know
except that very possibly
she lightens my load
partially
If not completely!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem