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See them on Saturday morning,
Yellow jackets and black plastic sacks,
Picking up papers,
From Friday night's capers,
And discarded cigarette packs.
Purveyors of litter so many,
Live in homes so tidy and neat,
It has to be so,
That much I know,
For they drop all their junk in the street.
Dreams of a beautiful neighbourhood,
Pristine streets and verges so fair,
When they come true,
They will truly be due,
To the tidy town people who care.
Endeavour that may appear futile,
Such blithe disregard for the bin,
But for the village’s pride,
They challenge the tide,
And do it again and again.
The stream it ripples more merrily,
Birdsong sweeter and hedges more green,
Sunshine is brighter,
Footsteps fall lighter,
When the tidy town people have been.
By Paddy Mulhern
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