I was sitting by my window
as I always do each morning
when a strange thing started happening
without the slightest warning.

It began by raining buckets,
several dustpans and a broom,
and a box of sponges landed
near the window with a boom.

Several mops appeared from nowhere
And with playfulness and skill
They paraded in formation
and they danced upon the sill.

Then a dozen cans of cleanser
and a hundred bars of soap,
spun in circles ’round my bedroom
like a spiral gyroscope.

They did pirouettes and pivots.
They performed a song-and-dance.
Then they finished with a combination
wiggle, waltz and prance.

Then they just as quickly vanished,
turning cartwheels ‘cross the floor,
they went bounding out the window
and they tumbled out the door.

I have no idea what happened,
so I guess I’ll just assume
this is someone’s way of telling me
that I should clean my room.