Junk mail I opened the door, only to find,

Mail and leaflets of every kind.

A heap of letters three feet high,

Each one designed to catch my eye.

One promised to make me a millionaire,

Another a loan beyond compare.

A gross of nappies on special offer,

Six spitoons made of shining copper. A garden gnome with bulbous eyes,

Suddenly made me realise.

That if this junk I took on board,

My bank account would soon be floored.

So off to the 'Post Office' my rage to tender,

With cryptic note 'Return To Sender'. Ian Platt,

Thornton Avenue,

Heaton, Bolton.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.