Oh no! - the collector’s tin
straight ahead - but such a nice grin…
and it’s a cause that somewhat appeals
and I could show support if I wear their bright stick-on seals!

So, shall I, shan’t I, put something in?
Perhaps a couple of pounds… or just a penny or two……
What’s this?….A button!…Surely that won’t do?
Thinks...others will come forth or some even fifth,
but sad, no “look-in” from those of a tight thrift;
their view’s not to confront the tin collector’s smile -
it’s just…“Out of here quick”…with a Bannister mile!

Yes…Most won’t hesitate but just turn the blind eye,
just spouting..…“Sorry….such a dash ..have just got to fly!”
Surprisingly daunting to feel such effects
to purely avoid the one who collects
so a quick “pass-by” will save one from guilt
to prevent that “strong-will” turning….. into a wilt!

But what’s this in pocket? Small coin? - Surely it’s cheap?
So out pocket comes hand, “palmed-tight” and forward you creep
to drop in with hope… it’s a penny or not of this realm and the sound
will be momentous and heavy.. and surely…….. the noise of a pound!

So much for this meanness or even hilarity
just cast your mind to the role of the charity.
Careful to fund those many good causes
using hard gained income from loyal forces
to give hope and joy to those in need,
with material help to sow the seed
for eventual success and often long awaited parity.

But the tin is still shaking around and around
your head is falling…you look to the ground.
What’s this....a Fiver! ….Pick it up.. Wow! it’s money I’ve found!
But ..Oh no!….The collector’s seen me and I have no small change.
I had nothing before…my thoughts need a quick re-arrange
so banknote into tin is pushed without pause.

“Oh, thank you” collector cries with overwhelming delight.
“That will be such a surprise on tin opening night!”
So with numerous lapel stickers stuck on with great fuss
and ego advanced I head for the bus.
But what’s this?… No bus pass and no money, whatever next?
What do you think? ….Perhaps just a little bit vexed?

So from the trek home with miscellaneous thoughts I arrive.
To finish this poem I still must contrive.
And opening front door …Yes…You’ve guessed it… What’s that?
Bulging free pen Charity requests… strewn all over the mat!
Too late I then cry and even might moan……..
Don’t forget….. Charity begins and ends at one’s…….. HOME!

© Keith Jellicoe