Clean Sweep

 Grumpy grime is past its prime.

Spring cleaning, clearing my abode,
I’m lightening my heavy load.
Dust goblins? Gone!
You’re overdrawn.
So take your fluff, and hit the road.

The spring, it sprang. My world is neat.
Good company stands in the street.
It for a song
Bids me along;
Ah, dank dirt seekers dash – beat feet!
c2017 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Adapted by this user from vintage artwork.

This poem was posted in response to these prompts:
April A to Z Blog Challenge
National Poetry Writing Month / NaPoWriMo
Meme Express: “for a song”
Simply Snickers: “sprang” and “spring”

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