Our Super Stylish Cleaner

By Angelena Demaria

I never will forget the day that Gina came to call.
The sound of her Manolo Blahnicks echoed in our hall.
Our floors were bare, the kids were foul, and everywhere was grot,
but Gina soon identified the main things we had not.
We had no style, no savoir faire, no joie de vivre or chic.
But then she vowed, by Ghost above, that she would fix us quick.

She had her funny little ways, she never drank our tea,
And now I come to think of it, she never took a pee.
She always stood, and scratched a lot, and wore a strong perfume,
and once I thought I heard her praying in the living room.
But we all have our little ways, and now that she is gone
I try to keep her standards up. She’s taught us right from wrong.

The eight - foot sunflowers in the front mean we can’t see the street,
but the vineyard in the backyard is coming on a treat.
The kids all help with washing up, she’s shown them what to do
The hamster cleans its cage out-our dog picks its bones up too.
The kitchen is by Smeg now, (which isn’t really rude.).
And hubby’s been no trouble since he changed his attitude.

The new kit from IKEA did challenge him a bit,
though it’s really nice and quiet since he got stuck inside of it.
But there’s one thing I can’t work out, now lovely Gina’s gone.
I think about it while I’m cooking our Beef Bourguignon.
Where did she get those bin bags with the Gucci label on?

(In fond memory of a wonderful colleague)

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Written Word ‘Hand’ poems