When Jim called this morning he wondered if I’m writing
(knowing
that my morning writing sched. is sort of a thing of the past right now).
I told
him not yet because there are so many other things that need doing too…
this
gave me the inspiration for a quickie while I enjoy a late first cup o’ coffee!
Ah, Saturday morning tug of
heart
Pulls us apart twixt Want and Must
A tableau filled with common art
So much to see, so much to dust
So much to snare from
thoroughfares
Of earth abroad and house right
here
Where home-sweet-home is a
nightmare
Without the care of Mother Dear
Ah, Saturday morning tug of will
Duty’s demand is strict and
plain
But holds a clean-shiny-floor
thrill
Those good excuses cannot gain
It knows that satisfaction waits
In simple swish-polish-scrub-fold
Hep-hep-heave-ho, for soon noon’s
gates
Are shadow-barred and starred
with gold
Ah, Saturday morning tug of Time
A war twixt dish-soap suds and
ink
So much to love, so much to
rhyme
So much Slow Second Cup to drink
So much to choose, so much to
Muse
Of sky-high blues, dew-hues
dirt-cursed
Where all my finger-printed
views
Insist I think I should clean
first
…ah, Saturday morning tug of
books
And pens, and hiking boots and
bikes
Where autumn leaf-boat dappled
brooks
Lure us to look long, if one
likes
Ah, Saturday morning tug of hand
Of cloths and pails and brooms
and mops
Where nothing else is quite as
grand
If mother’s sweep-scrub-polish
stops
© Janet Martin
Ugh! said Victoria after I read her this poem before posting it.
I hate the way this sounds...
(In case you've noticed, cleaning is NOT Victoria's first love😊)
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!