Is there a companion so steady, so loyal
So constant amid life's stress
As my laundry is to me?
No friend on earth is so unwavering,
always growing, as the mound
upon which I dwell so continually.
Who is she that is eternally there?
Of whom do I think when I rise
And when I sleep?
She's there, you know, she'll ne'er be gone.
Waiting to greet the lonely soul.
My heap and I shall never part.
As sure as the sun and moon and stars,
as faithful as the waves of the sea.
My laundry pile won't leave me.
I know I have a friend, an unrelenting friend
Through life's sorrows and joys
and cleaning mounds of toys.
I have a fixed companion that ever clings to me.
A most allegiant and resolute connection,
That large enbankment of laundry.
Ah, the cousin to the demanding deluge of dishes that deploys daily!
ReplyDeleteSo (sadly) true. That pile grows daily (sometimes hourly - you know those socks).
It's funny how my house has been completely taken over by laundry, yet it seems my family never has anything to wear no matter how much I wash. *sigh* At least I have a machiene that does that hard stuff for me.
ReplyDeleteSo funny; not what I expected from a poem about laundry! Stopping by from BF.
ReplyDelete