Notes About The Poem

For Margarita Lillico 's Contest

Domestic Bliss

I am a captive of these chores,
Clean dirt from windows, walls and floors.
Clothes washed to remove all the dirt,
Even the lipstick on his shirt.
There's no time to check if its mine.
Washing is done, dirt came out fine.
Such bliss to have it all done, and when I die.
They'll throw dirt on me, where I lie.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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May 29, 2026 at 4:28 AM
Here you are, dear friend. I visit so infrequently but am so glad to read your words.. as I myself tussle with chores today (and wrestle with procrastination, clearly). To the poetry, short, sweet and yet deeply thought provoking. Do more, please x It might be the encouragement I need to have my muse re-energised. All love and blessing, Sxx :-))
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