My house has a beauty
That can’t be compared
To snobby, new houses
That don’t need repair.
I’ve the crookedest round window
You ever did meet.
Maneuvering the attic ladder
Is a death-defying feat.
The plumbing backs up
On an annual basis;
As I’m sure you can tell,
It’s a regular oasis.
Most bedrooms invite
Rest and sweet relaxation;
My bedroom snarls
Through exposed insulation.
The floors are uneven,
The ceilings are too.
After much contemplation
I know just what to do.
I’m opening my doors
Come one and come all
To have an adventure
(And repair some walls).
This exotic location
Is not to be missed.
If you don’t bring your friends,
They’re sure to be pissed.
You’ll clean rusty gutters
And replace missing shingles.
You’ll learn some new words
As you party and mingle.
For the deluxe package
Please give us a call.
It includes photo ops
With the dog that eats drywall.
This is once in a lifetime,
So your friends, please do tell them,
Anyone with a tool belt
Is sure to be welcomed.
So nice, Carole.
ReplyDeleteBad poetry at its finest! LOL!
ReplyDeleteOh, I don't think it's too bad. [this from a woman who writes zombie poetry for fun]
ReplyDeleteI thought about writing it to a showtune, but I didn't want to get sued. LOL!
ReplyDeleteAwesomez, Blue! :-)
ReplyDeleteAdam
Not a bad idea to have a fix-it-up party, especially if you offer to return the favor. Hmmm, something to think about.
ReplyDeleteI am too much of a control freak to actually have a fix-it-up party. I can trust my friend Sue, and that's just about as far as it goes. :-)
ReplyDeleteGreat poem, I love the bit about the snarling bedroom! My bedroom is a bit of a drip. I lie in bed and watch the water stains, LOL. I sense a new career in home improvement poetry for you!
ReplyDelete