The Basket.

As I was sitting writing

I was attacked.

This basket crept up on me

And clipped me round the ear.

“What do you want?” I asked,

 “Emptying!” It replied,

“What do you mean, emptying?” I asked;

“You’re not even overflowing!”

“But I will be soon if your Missus has her way!”

It said as it hit me again.

Every time I ignored it

The more it got in the way.

“Alright” I said “Alright”.

So the ironing got done.

The basket was emptied.

As it strode back to its place

It turned to me,

Smiled facetiously,

And said “Don’t let me get that full again!”