Next of kin
I seem to spend more time cleaning
Than spend time preening!
Does it matter that a piece of
cake, or steak
Falls on the floor (that was
gleaming)
Now all I have is a backache.
And how many more times -
Clean the loo ‘til it shines!
Add colour to the cistern to match
The decor;
To others, it’s a bore!
Do the sheets really need changing?
Again?
It’s becoming such a strain
Keep washing, ironing – what a pain!
When I need to try and constrain.
But I like it tidy and precise
(No food bits for any mice!)
Nothing out of place,
Knowing where things are.
Like our Northern star.
No cobwebs, insects or dead flies.
Live in my house I’ll emphasize!
The dust mites - I will vaporize,
Everything will get sanitized!
All things unwelcome will demise.
Son’s bedroom needs more than a
broom
And I always assume
That it’s never quite tidy and
neat!
But have to take a backseat
And give in to defeat.
And I vacuum, wipe, scrub and dust,
As if it’s a necessary urgent must!
The Hoover doesn’t get a break
And vacuum as if my life’s at
stake!
Naturally, when it’s bedtime, I’ve
a headache...
Am like a woman obsessed,
A woman possessed;
I really hate a mess
And get distressed
And need a rest.
And I know I drive you mad,
When you look at me so sad;
But now I don’t feel so bad!
(My flushes now on overheat)
But after all, the housework’s’
complete!
There’s never any washing up -
Not a single spoon or cup!
Use washing detergent;
Again, it feels so urgent
With such an urge to cleanup!
Now nothing’s in the wash bin,
The waste bin,
The cupboards we keep food in,
Have left it clean and tidy
For my next of kin!
Copyright Linda Lawrence
9th February
2017
