Mr R.E. Cycle

I am the king of unwanted waste,
see my throne of tyres replaced.
Bring your gifts inside my palace,
place them on the royal pallets.

My robes are quite an eclectic mix,
taken from bags dropped off by the rich.
My shoes sometimes are a matching pair
and my hat and cane are so Fred Astaire.

We even want your bubble-rap packing
to use as beds for those who are lacking.
The guards will take all your old dvd's
we watch one a week on repaired PC's

Treasures are stored at the side of each skip
in a deckchair I sit and select the best bits.
My garden delights with the smell of cut grass,
tomatoes are grown behind old panes of glass.

The servants will offer a hand to the old
as sometimes they bring stuff better than gold
Yes they will help you with all of your loot
and sell it for profit at Sundays car-boot.

So keep up the parade of loaded cars,
while my jester plays his three string guitar.
I’ll wave you in, take your crap each day
to a land-fill site far far away.