Next of kin

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

9^th February 2017