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
I loved this poem. Cute and very clever.
ReplyDeleteI 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!
ReplyDeleteI love the way you wrote this!
ReplyDeleteThat repetition is surprisingly enticing.
It made me want to recite it out loud...
...like a wonderful housewife story!