If our great planet’s only hope
Lay in our use of bars of soap
Not plastic pumps of shower gel,
I wonder, would it end up well?
Plastic pumps are so so easy
Satisfying, clean and squeezy
Labels are pretty, colours too.
Matching a perfect shade of blue!
The words that promise Oh So Much:
Skin that is smooth, soft to the touch.
Whereas soap? Nope! Not a hope.
No-one loves a bar of soap.
It’s fine and all, when it is new.
Looks lovely for a day or two.
But then it starts to leave a slime
That never dries and, over time,
The soapy dish is dirty too.
It’s kinda hard to shift soap goo.
And you wonder: can it be clean?
It touches all those hands, I mean,
You wipe your bum then hold that bar!
And that is it.
And there you are.
The final nail: Dare I go there?
Stuck in the soap – one pubic hair!
We tried less plastic, did our bit.
It didn’t work out. It wasn’t a fit
With busy, hectic daily life.
It increased daily toil and strife.
We bounced straight back to clean clear plastic.
Convenience makes our morals elastic.
What do you think the children will say
If we explain ourselves this way?
What it all boils down to is this:
The reason why rhinos no longer exist;
The reason why storms rage over the sea
And so many people are going hungry;
And oceans are filled with more litter than fish…
It was just too much trouble to wash a soap dish.
A humble metaphor for hope
(Or lack of it) – a bar of soap!