Anthea's Domestic Book Of Laws.
I've washed the dishes and washed the floors,
Vacuumed carpets, wiped the doors.
The clothes away in all the drawers.
I've stuck to Anthea's cleaning laws.
Kim and Aggie would be pleased.
But Anthea? I can not appease.
She'd find the dirt on her white glove.
Along with the cobweb that I missed above.
Did you not read my book, she howls,
with my tips on folding towels?
Anthea. She's not impressed.
She tries to tell me she knows best.
My house it gleams. I have worked hard.
I've tidied the garden and swept the yard.
I don't need Anthea's book of laws,
to tell me how to wash my floors.
Thursday, October 29, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: cleaning