Sunday, March 21, 2010

Housewife Hooky

The rigid dictation of
Washer and spinner
The endless inquisition of
‘Mom, what’s for dinner?’
The loads of laundry
In copious piles
The cobwebs, dust bunnies
Can all wait awhile

The sink full of dishes
The crumbs on the floor
Defy all the wishes
Beyond my front door
Inside these walls
I’ve had glimpses of heaven
But today they are bars
Of a housewife’s prison

Cast off the fetters
Of dish rag and mop
Fling wide the windows
The door cannot stop
These feet that are yearning
To run ‘cross the green
Where just a short while ago
Snow angels had been

Dash with the breeze
That roves cross the wild
Laugh with the brook
Like you did as a child
Taste the warm kisses
Of sunshine again
Hug the spring meadows
And dance in the rain

There is no passion
And there is no lure
Like the call of the open
In a spring morn so pure
Tomorrow the dishes
Can be put away
Yield to your wander-lust
Play hooky today

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

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