By Clarice Anderson

Note to readers: Clarice has shared that this poem was written as a joke because she was ‘fed up’ with critics in her retirement village complaining all the time instead of appreciating what they have.  Enjoy…

While the staff were gathered enjoying morning tea,

We locked them in the staffroom and threw away the key.

Vic rushed to the kitchen to make a super meal,

Pat went to the office searching cheaper deals.

We opened all the doors, including Wakelin Wing,

Oh how those happy people did gayly dance and sing.

There was cricket on the front lawn, and footy on the back,

David opened DJ Café so we could go there for a snack.

With visitors arriving creating such a din,

We tried to defend ourselves with patience running thin.

As alarm bells all were ringing and a dreadful scream,

I crashed into the wall – and woke!

Thank God, it was all a dream