A man went round, from door to door:
     'I’m collecting smells,' he said.
He hunted high; he hunted low -
     And underneath my bed.

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My kitchen held delicious smells.
     Oh yes, he found a lot:
The aroma of my casserole
     Came from my cooking pot.

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Yes, 'savoury' was the word I’d use:
     I’m sure you know this smell,
But 'appetizing', 'mouth-watering'
     Are words that you’ll know well.

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He grabbed this smell immediately
     And in his bag it went,
And from my bedroom - oh please no!
     He stole my smell of scent.

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Well 'perfume' is the name I’d use -
     A word that goes with 'scent' -
And 'perfume' has to be the word,
     Considering what I’d spent.

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Then from the bathroom came a smell -
     An odour you’ll know too.
Now who’d been there much earlier,
     But didn’t flush the loo? - - - -  

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             (My friend's son, I think!!!)

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I’m glad that 'stink' has left our house.
     It’s gone - I hope to stay!
I’ll now replace that dreadful 'stench'
      With lightly perfumed spray.

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Oh no, he’s taken this as well -
     He’s nothing but a thief,
But thankfully he’s gone at last
     To cause my neighbour grief.

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Copyright on all my poems

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