Stevie Taite

Rookie - 318 Points (30th January 1973 / Kent, England)

The Washing Monster, And Friends - Poem by Stevie Taite

The washing monster
How it grows
It's fed well
On our dirty clothes

We do attack
But by the next day
It's grown back

He has a friend
That's equally vile
It calls itself
The ironing pile

The ironing pile
I don't even start
I bury its parts
Once I've torn it apart

And then as my body
Is hungry for clothes
Might give an iron lick
If it needs, I suppose

The washing up witch
Gets a boiling from hell
She's hard to ignore
So she doesn't last well

The dust and dirt devil
He spreads his self thin
Barely there, if I squint
So I can live with him
(for a while)

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Extended the original last nite. Hope it brings a smile. X x

Comments about The Washing Monster, And Friends by Stevie Taite

  • (1/27/2013 5:44:00 AM)

    It's a real skill to blame the washing! A woman's work/ lol (Report) Reply

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  • Valerie Dohren (1/26/2013 3:25:00 PM)

    It certainly does bring a smile Stevie, and the older I get, the less I feel inclined to do. Great poem. (Report) Reply

  • Heather Wilson (1/25/2013 6:05:00 AM)

    Oh, bless, it brought more than a smile, most of us can relate to this poem, just wonderful. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, January 25, 2013

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