A wandering tumble-dryer
Sat by a deep lagoon
And tried to re-align him
With happenings late and soon,

New paths, new plots, new people
New chemicals in the wash,
And sitting there in God’s sweet air
The lake he looked across,

“Just as the Sun at break of day
Glad hope will soon revive,
I now embrace the life I have,
Bliss to fortunate survive.”

In this happy mood of mind
He churned his merry drum,
Clothes softly sifting down inside
Out perfect then to come.