I walked into my house,
expecting my senses to be aroused,
by the aroma of baking bread.
so it surprised me, when instead,
of having my senses tickled by,
the delicious scent of apple pie,
or the aroma of food in the making,
or rice on the stove and turkey baking,
I walked in, instead, to an awful smell,
the source of which I could not tell.
I ventured to the garbage bin,
to see if the source of the stench came from therein,
but the bin was empty and sans any stink,
so I walked over to the kitchen sink,
to inspect and see what it could be,
But sink was spotlessly clean,
glistening almost with silvery sheen.
So I went off to see if the food had gone bad,
food in the fridge, if I may add.
But the food looked splendid so to speak,
it clearly wasn’t causing the house to reek.
So what then, was casing my flat,
to smell of a dead rat?
The toilets was where I ventured next,
to see if my kids had left them wrecked,
But they were clean and pristine,
cleaner than my face has ever been.
So I checked the rooms, to see if I had forgotten,
an half eaten plate of food that had gone rotten.
But alas, the house, to my dismay,
resolutely refused to betray,
the source that caused my home,
to smell like a sewer, from cellar to dome.
Aghast and defeated I called out to my wife,
who is the Sherlock Holmes of my life,
"Oh dearest wife of mine,
there's a stink sending down my spine,
a nasty and distasteful shiver,
like I'm drowning in the Mithi river".
"I cannot stand to stay indoors,
inhaling this vile smell anymore"
"Darling" she said sounding like a lark,
"While the cause of the smell may appear mysterious and dark,
the matter is quite simple and plain,
this smell of which you complain,
is not of rotting eggs or meat,
it’s the smell you've bought in with your feet."
With that, out of the window, she tossed my shoes,
She would have tossed me instead if given to choose.
She then scrubbed my feet with sandpaper
and made me less hideous and more dapper.