The woman who cleans her house in the nude (and other secrets from Snodsbury Lane)
Do you want to know what happens in Snodsbury Lane?
So many folks, so lots to explain.
Habits and hobbies and working at home,
Eating and sleeping and chats on the phone.
If only you could spy through every front door,
You’d see TVs and book shelves and oh so much more.
But no need to worry for I’ll tell you all.
And if it’s not enough you can give me a call.
No 2 on the corner has a lovely red door,
Inside there’s a family; mum, dad and two more.
The boys are both teenagers busy with their home-schooling,
Or at least they pretend, but their mum they’re not fooling.
A smiling old man lives across the street at No 3,
He chats to his goldfish his cockapoo on his knee.
His son brings him shopping but he still walks the dog,
An odd mix of clothing leaving neighbours agog.
The two mummies at No 4 have just had a baby,
They’re not getting much sleep and the mornings’ are hazy.
Mummy Kate’s a keyworker and is often home late,
Waking mummy Jo from a doze as she opens the gate.
The couple at ‘The Willows’ or No 5 to the posties,
Aren’t that good at cooking so mostly eat toasties.
Their kids and their grandchildren live far, far away.
So they meet up on zoom for some time every day.
Walking and running keeps No 6’s resident busy,
She tried dancing to Alexa but it made her feel dizzy,
She’s often quite sweaty so showers after her run,
Once she's dusted whilst nude. Well she thinks its’ fun.
There’s a house that’s for sale and a quiet village hall,
As they’re both empty now you can hear a pin fall.
Their gardens are overgrown, unlike the rest.
The cockapoo owner mows his in his vest.
Some students share No 1 and most haven’t returned,
to their non term-time cities although uni’s adjourned
They squabble a little but mostly get on,
They’re kind to the oldies. They’ll be missed when they’re gone.
Disaster strikes when the broadband goes down,
There’s no contact with anyone outside of the town.
It makes some people think of the ones on their own,
No one to talk to, not even to moan.
Kate has a plan and takes notes to the homes,
Dawdling at No 3 to share jokes with the gnomes.
Everyone’s excited even the rather be lazy lads,
Not to mention the singles, the nans and the dads.
The naked cleaner makes bunting, the students do too,
The toastie eaters blow balloons, all for the do.
Then out they all come at a quarter to seven,
To have SO much company just feels like heaven.
All sitting in chairs at least two metres apart,
The pooch is excited the baby warms hearts.
They chat and they giggle until it goes dark,
Then someone starts singing and the dog gives a bark.
A few verses in and the rain starts to fall,
They groan, stand and stretch. My, mummy Jo is so tall.
‘Let’s do this again’, a student calls as they clear up,
‘YES, YES, shouts the old man forgetting a teacup.
So these are the secrets of one set of neighbours,
Their quirks and their foibles, their kindness, their labours.
Remember this is just one street, now think of some more.
Housing drum players, quiche makers and plenty who snore.