When Christmas Has Gone, and the Rubbish Remains
When Christmas has gone, and the glitter grows dull,
And the tree sheds its needles, the bins overfull,
In Wolverhampton’s streets, a tale unfolds—
Of wrapping and ribbons and the chaos they hold.
The tinsel that sparkled, now crushed in despair,
The baubles lie shattered, no longer fair.
Boxes from gadgets and toys that delight,
Pile up like a mountain, a post-Christmas sight.
The chocolates consumed, their wrappers are strewn,
The turkey’s just bones under a cold winter moon.
Cans of beer, bottles of wine in a heap,
A festive hangover no broom can sweep.
The house feels so crowded, it’s a cluttered domain,
Each corner stacked high with the Christmas remains.
There’s no space to breathe, no room for the new,
The season has passed, but the rubbish? It grew.
And so, comes the thought, clear and plain in your mind,
A solution, a saviour—of the van-renting kind.
Not a sleigh pulled by reindeer, but practical wheels,
To whisk away chaos and make tidy appeals.
To Wolverhampton Hire Van Depot
In Wolverhampton, where the frost bites the air,
Lies a depot of vans for the desperate to share.
A fleet of white chariots, sturdy and grand,
Ready to help clear the wreckage at hand.
You shuffle your way through the cold and the fog,
Past remnants of crackers, past a lost Yule log.
The man at the counter gives a nod and a smile,
“Need a van for your rubbish? It’s been quite a while!”
You nod with relief, for he seems to have seen,
The struggles of folks with post-Christmas routines.
He hands you the keys to a van built to bear,
The weight of December’s indulgence and flair.
Loading the Van
Back to your house, you reverse with great care,
Past a plastic-lit Santa and a deer’s vacant stare.
The neighbours all nod; they’re in the same plight,
Their own piles of rubbish grow bigger each night.
You open the doors and begin the great haul,
The cardboard, the tinsel, the remnants of it all.
The boxes that once held bright dreams in their shell,
Now flattened and useless, their purpose a farewell.
There’s a broken toy truck and a tangled-up slinky,
A sweater too tight and a hat far too twinkly.
The pine needles crunch as you sweep them inside,
While the ghost of a carol drifts faint on the tide.
One load, then another, and yet there’s still more,
The remnants of cheer that you can’t just ignore.
By midday you’re sweating, though the weather is cold,
As the van slowly fills with the things that you hold.
A Journey of Redemption
With the rubbish now stowed and your task nearly done,
You start up the van for the ultimate run.
Through Wolverhampton’s streets, past chimneys and lanes,
To the waste centre’s gates, where no joy remains.
The workers there greet you with knowing expressions,
They’ve seen Christmas’s aftermath in many professions.
From offices, houses, and even the mall,
December’s bright splendour becomes January’s sprawl.
You unload the van, each trip a release,
As the mountain of waste finally starts to decrease.
The ribbons, the boxes, the plastic you bring,
Get tossed in their places, the bins start to sing.
The landfill looms large, but there’s solace in knowing,
That out of the waste, something new might be growing.
For recycling transforms what we thought had no worth,
To new life, to new form, to a rebirth of earth.
And so, it ends
With the van now emptied, you drive back through town,
Past parks turned to frost fields, and trees stripped of crowns.
The weight on your shoulders feels lighter at last,
The chaos of Christmas consigned to the past.
And though the season has passed in a whirl,
Its echoes remain in the laughter of girls,
In the memory of feasts, in the glow of the hearth,
In the warmth that outlasts all the glittering mirth.
The van returns safely, its job fully done,
The rubbish is gone, and you’re free to move on.
In the quiet that follows, as twilight descends,
You Savor the peace that the clean-up extends.
Christmas has passed, and though it felt fleeting,
Its echoes remain in the hearts it was greeting.
So hire a Wolverhampton van, clear the clutter away,
And make room for the joys of another new day.
Easihire
New Manor Service Station
Parkfield Road
Wolverhampton
WV4 6EL
01902 491449