Weeks upon weeks,

Fold after fold,

Creases and “Jesus”,

Jack and the beanstalk.

 

A huff in the morning,

A puff by noon,

A sigh in the evening

and the pile another two inches high.

 

It’s a task, a farce,

Who needs neatness anyway?

Yet I cannot bear the sight

any longer, this mountain to climb.

 

I thought a nap might help

Or defeating the pile of cups and plates,

There it remains,

Ugly and lavender fresh.

 

Denial and domestic disillusionment reign

but perhaps if I write about it,

I’ll actually tackle the pain.

 

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Day 19 – Imagine yourself doing any household task/chore, then write a poem using what you’ve imagined as an extended metaphor for writing.

Day 18 – Library Lesson

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For the challenge, click here.

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