A big round bright red postbox,
Is such a splendid sight, to me,
And the way we try posting our letters,
Is, moreover, a 'fun' sight to see.
People often put their hand in the wide slot,
Holding onto their letters, real tight,
And somehow, they just can't seem to let go,
They are struggling, like mad, in their plight.
To stand, and to pluck up the courage,
And to make a decision to take
Their hand away from inside the slot,
Is a judgement they can't deem to make.
Very gradually, they then start departing,
But have to go back, just for luck,
To check in the slot, and make really sure,
That their letters, have not become stuck.
You can see, it's to them, a great worry,
It is written all over their face,
You so want to kindly reassure them,
And coax them cheerfully back to their base.
There are others who read the addresses,
On each envelope, that they have picked,
They examine the flap, to confirm it is sealed,
And that also the stamp has been licked.
Others read on the plate, posting details,
Not only once, but again and again,
And some try so very hard, to push in
A wrapper, too big, thus in vain.
Fascinating, is the art of letter posting,
Like watching a 'comedy' type play,
And realise with amazement, the many 'odd' ways,
We attempt to post our mailings each day.
© Ernestine Northover
Ernestine Northover
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lookers-lickers-and-stickers/
