A man went round, from door to door,

    “I’m collecting smells,” he said.

He hunted high, he hunted low

    And underneath my bed.

 

My kitchen held delicious smells -

    Oh yes, he found a lot:

The aroma of my casserole

    Came from my cooking pot.

 

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.

 

He grabbed this smell immediately

    And in his bag it went,

And from my bedroom - oh please no!

    He stole my smell of scent.

 

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.

 

Oh, but 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? - - - -  

 

   (My grandson I think!!!)

 

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.

 

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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