Dirty laundry in a hamper, lying doggo, does no harm,
Never gives a bit of trouble: that's the secret of its charm.
Laundry blowing on a clothes-line, sparkling in the summer breeze,
Makes one feel the world's in order; every prospect seems to please.
I like laundry when it's dirty; I like laundry when it's clean.
But I feel distinctly tetchy with the bit that comes between!