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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