A Film Of Dust


The dust on my furniture
turns me wild.

A film develops on the wooden chairs
making it look dull.

The creamy coat grows thicker
if I lose sight of them.

The floors receive a black tissue of dirt
demands a sweep and a mop daily

The colours lose their gloss
look sallow.

The bath shows up hard
with the water stains.

An efficient care is required
the upkeep is expensive.

Working through the difficulty
I spend a fortune to keep them respectable.

Have to deploy trained and earnest
personnel. I seek and strive.

Hard to identify such men nowadays,
I face a hard time.

Impossible to do it alone,
I contend with a grim condition.

Meantime my house becomes weary.
Ghastly it appears with dust on its body.

 

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