The post office van has worn holes in the roads
For day in and day out it carries large loads:
A year’s worth of dog food and tons of meat pies -
For every new day brings another big prize.
Behind half-closed shutters the poor woman strains.
The more puzzles she solves, the more prizes she gains.
Now the post van is groaning - oh, such a huge weight!
There is something enormous in several large crates.
With a cough and a splutter it goes slower and slower,
For she’s won for herself ten orange lawnmowers.
The woman’s exhausted and she’s having to yawn,
For what is more boring than cutting the lawn?
You need mountains of room to accommodate prizes
For they come in all shapes and unusual sizes.
Her poor cupboards are full, and her wardrobes and bath,
But the rest of the family, for certain, don’t laugh.
Now poor father is leaving. There’s no room for him.
The bedrooms are groaning; they’re full to the brim.
There’s dog food and cat food, a range of tinned fruits,
Ten hair dryers, three milk jugs and six evening suits.
The post van’s worn out now and has gone to the tip
For it gave up its ghost on its very last trip.
The postman’s retired as he’s got a bad back.
He was really worn out by the weight of his sack.
The house is now creaking with all of this strain,
And the floorboards are suffering such terrible pain.
One day the whole house will come tumbling down.
There’ll be one less contestant in our little town!
Copyright on all my poems