The Cleaning Lady

The Cleaning Lady.

She’s not the sharpest tool in the box,

Our June.  But she cleans well,

If rather slowly.  Talks a lot.

Has a lot to tell.

I listen patiently, try to pretend

Some interest, poor duck.

She sips her tea, and hoovers,

Has always had bad luck,

But she’s a cheerful soul,

And grateful.  Likes the work, takes pride.

Gives her a focus, some money,

Needed since her husband died.

 

She’s not the brightest button in the box,

Our June. Quite simple, that little smile,

Glad of the work, and merry,

Oh, she can take quite a while

With the simplest chore, our June.

But I keep her on. No choice.

She needs me most, and I listen

To her quiet chatty voice

As she makes her way round my house,

Never wants to finish soon.

Simple soul, bless her, bless.

Not very bright, our June.                        

                                C

Catherine Broughton