Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater’s been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or—
Huh? You say it’s mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!
(Shel Silverstein)
There’s been a murder, a woman was killed,
found in a bathtub, partially filled.
A pair of policemen went into the house
and questioned the poor woman’s spouse.
He’d just come home from working all night
and found her like that, a terrible sight.
The younger policeman looked on with dismay.
He’d never forget that terrible day.
He saw the young woman from behind the door
and empty milk cartons all over the floor,
Scattered strawberries, slices of fruit,
and spoonfuls of sugar and honey to boot.
”Who could have done this terrible thing?”
His voice had a horrified, pitiful ring.
”Just look at the clues,” replied Sargeant Miller.
”It looks like the work of a cereal killer.” (Albert Van Hoogmoed)
I’ve hunted near, I’ve hunted far
I even looked inside my car.
I’ve lost my glasses, I’m in need,
To have them now so I can read.
I loudly swear and I curse
Did I leave them in my purse?
Are they behind the sofa, under the bed?
Oh there they are – on my head!
(Anne Scott)
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