Laundry Day

A silly poem I did on a completely average subject. Hopefully I re-instiled that love of all that is clean.

Mountainous ranges extending forever

Topple and crumble as small feet fly by.

Bountiful colours and mixes seem to glow

As morning light and afternoon sun shine bright.

Worn hands grasp rough and soft materials alike,

As bashful faces watch as those unmentionables

Are tossed aside like the rags and sweats.

The great gobbler fills, and magical liquids are poured

Into the gapping mouth. Water fills, and bubbles form.

Spinning starts on high.

Watch as the colours blend and thunderous sounds erupt.

Wait for that beep.

Final spin, and the mouth regurgitate its food.

Damp clothing is tossed from one mouth to the other,

And a foggy page is added.

Set on high and stand back as physics happen.

Forgotten, it beeps, and beeps once more.

Light enters the dark cavern and hands reach in.

Tossed into baskets, the clean make one last voyage.

Up flights of stairs, and over more piles we go -

Finally arriving. Expert hands fold and press,

Each item forced to take on a shape untold.

Sleep now, as each is tucked snugly into bed;

That is, until next time.

Author's Note

Grammar and spelling are forever my short commings, always love those problems pointed out.

Reviews

[Danielle Asher]

i like the way you make laundry sound like an excursion or something. lol i find it to be such a chore so i enjoyed the fact that you made it into a lovely little piece of art. Thanks!

[Athena Manolopoulos]

I liked the subject a lot, although I did expect something totally different. Some of your descriptions were almost there but not quite, if that makes sense. I guess to me it reads like you were trying hard to find interesting ways to interpret laundry instead of the metaphors coming naturally to you. But the idea is there. It actually makes me want to write about laundry myself haha.