Father’s Stuff

My husband has been helping his Dad sort his house out whilst off work, which reminded me of a poem I wrote this time last year.

Nothing changes then!

Father’s Stuff

My father is right muddley
I thought the other day
I’d help him sort his house out
And throw some stuff away

Well you would not believe
The stuff he had in there
Three weekends later
I am pulling out my hair

To say he is a hoarder
I think is not unfair
There’s stuff goes back to doomsday
He doesn’t seem to care

He’s got stuff in every corner
And stuff where stuff don’t go
Every cupboard’s bursting
Where to start I just don’t know

And when I try and move something
He says that don’t go there
Put it back and leave it be
Somewhere it’s got a pair

I have to sneak stuff in the bin
When he has turned his back
Hidden round the corner
Is a great big dustbin sack

He’s got stuff that brings back memories
He must hold on to that
Even though the insides
Have been eaten by a rat

Stuff that is a load of junk
He thinks is worth some money
If it wasn’t tragic
I think it could be funny

Stuff that could be useful
You never know just when
The occasion might arise
For a fortune telling pen

His attic is a miracle
And so’s his garden shed
I’m just surprised his attic
Has not landed on his bed

Tracy Benham

March 2019