Before they arrive here’s what you should do,
run up the stairs quick and block the damn loo,
reams of white paper make one soggy mess
a turd on the top to add to the stress.
Doors off the wardrobe that hang in mid air,
the ghost in the night that’ll give them a scare.
Mould in the kitchen that lives it’s own life
and noise from the drains, to add to the strife.
Soot on the carpet in front of the fire
chimney sweeps names, should they want to hire.
Paper that’s peeling, a sofa with tears,
say with a smile, ‘all this could be theirs!’
Open the door to the garden so green
point out the station, if they haven’t seen,
mainline to London, the trains never stop,
to be kept awake ‘til they’re fit to drop.
Show them the line of the path to the shed,
point out the last thing you found that was dead
and was hiding in grass, well out of view
there may well be others, we’ll leave those for you.
Last but not least, we come back to the house
passing the wasp’s nest and spying a mouse,
the best left for last the old cellar door
rotting with woodworm…and so is the floor.
A squirt of ‘Fresh Air’ to mask the dank smell
inviting them down to the dark bowels of Hell,
pipe work is leaking as you say your prayers,
the floor’s underwater, so are the stairs.
Bid them good day as they rush down the hall,
“Please come again or at least give a call”,
you know that’s the last that you’ll see of them,
the house isn’t quite their crème de la crème!
Gold trophy winner
Adding your comment:
Fabulous poem Sue, great flow and rhyming, it truly was great. I imagine a lot of people do this for kicks 
And big congratulations on the gold trophy - big points 
