Why I Don't Write Poems...

I've swept all the floors then mopped 'em,

Washed the mirrors, glass, sink, coffeepot.
Cleaned my room, fed the dogs, changed three diapers,

Did the laundry, picked up toys...quite a lot.

Baked a cake and renewed hubby's licence,

Laid out clothes for our dinner tonight.
Emptied then filled the dishwasher,

Made lunch and tucked the little ones in tight.

So now my older ones are playing outside,

The young ones are napping so sound

My house is cleaned up for a moment,

And I sit in the quiet surround.

Yes, I know there are more constructive things I could be doing with my time!

I got to sit down at lunch for a few moments, o.k.?

I am always fighting handprints up the staircase, around the light switches, doors, walls...This is one of my FAVEorite poems that helps me to overlook the unsightly smudges and smears of dirty hands.

I think most of us gave this poem to our parents

accompanied by a plaster of paris mold of our hand?

Sometimes you get discouraged

Because I am so small,

And always leave my fingerprints

On furniture and walls.

But everyday I'm growing,

I'll be all grown up someday,

And all these tiny handprints

Will simply fade away.