All that WAshing by marge. 14 of 30 April poems

All that Washing.                                            Poem 14 of 30.

Washing, Washing, all that washing.

Sometimes, my kitchen feels like

A Chinese Laundry.

Where does it all come from?

Washing, washing, all that washing,

There are only two of us

In this house.

Where does it all come from?

Drying, drying all that washing.

I need warm and gentle wind

for the washing to dry

Outside on the line.

Drying, drying.

Losing, losing, losing the sock.

Why is there always

An odd sock?

Where do they go to, go to?

Folding, folding all that washing.

I fold clean washing

Get it put away

As quickly

As I can, I can, I can.

I don’t believe in Ironing,

I think it is boring.

Life is too short

For ironing, ironing, ironing.

I am doing things more interesting.

Like writing, reading, thinking

That is self improving

Self improving, self improving.