Sunday, 11 November 2012

Tidying tidying; a mother's job is never done

This poem is written as part of Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus for the prompt "The pain was excruciating".

Tidying tidying
A mother's job is never done
Clearing clearing
Removing all the fun

Collecting collecting
All the tiny little pieces
Sorting sorting
Everything into sizes

Crying crying
As I step on one that's spiking
Hobbling hobbling
The pain was excruciating

Hopping hopping
Trying not to swear
Cursing cursing
The rubbish left everywhere

Smiling smiling
As I see myself in the mirror
Stopping stopping
No more do I care

Sitting sitting
Having a well earned rest
Relaxing relaxing
You can clear, be my guest


Viki said...

I loved this poem. Cute and very clever.

Dreaming said...

I could very clearly see my family room from years gone by... and I can recall that stabbing pain of going barefoot among the little pieces!

Jenny said...

I love the way you wrote this!

That repetition is surprisingly enticing.

It made me want to recite it out loud... a wonderful housewife story!