'Twas four nights after Christmas
And all through each room
I had searched with great rigour
But not found a spoon
Recycling piled in a blue council sack
In hope that the bin men
Would one day come back
With a little old driver so lively and quick
That he would not notice
I'd thrown out a brick.
And then in a twinkling
I suddenly thought
What if with the rubbish
my spoons had got caught?
I sprang to my feet and outside with a bound
I searched through the garbage
Until I had found
All wrapped in a bowl
with the last of a jelly
A fish eye, some peelings
and something else smelly
A spoon I'd discarded
In moment'ry lapse
Or somebody else had -
more likely perhaps!
And laying my fingers
Each side of my nose
I picked up the spoon
That the bin had exposed
My droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow
I now had a spoon and was ready to go
I whistled and shouted and turning around
Exclaimed to my husband
"Just look what I've found!"
"Your clothes are all tarnished,
get out of my sight.
I'll buy you a spoon for next Christmas.
Goodnight"
