The Collector


I knew a Lady who collected stuff              

No matter what she had it was never enough

She would stash it in a closet or behind the door

What ever she got, She always wanted more

She saved things in the attic and under the sink

She had Boxes in the garage

But nothing in the garbage

She even hid her goodies in the oven I think

She kept old used soap bars and mason jars

Match books from fifty years of restaurants

And lots of items that no one else would want

Exotic treasures from places near and far

When she passed to the great beyond

She’d been saving things for over ninety years

But her great Joy of reaching those Pearly Gates quickly turned to tears

She tried to take it with her, all of that she was fond

Saint Peter said, "Wait a minute, you can’t bring that stuff up here"

She argued quite a case, and even threatened that she would sue

He almost went along, but in the end He said " The clouds are to thin I fear,

And everything that you would bring would fall right back through"

She finally agreed to let it all go

And start over collecting just heavenly things

She’s already saving old worn out wings

And, Oh Happiness, she recently found a discarded halo

So it came to be that we now have everything she left

Including the glass ware and ancient high school ring

We got some furniture and one slightly chipped gravy boat

Some old dress patterns and a ratty old fur coat

Now we can finally get rid of it all

Throw it all out and really have a ball

Call up the Salvation Army

Hand that roll of trash bags to me

But do you know what

I think, I might want to keep just this

And of course we will need that

And maybe that, and that