Higgledy-Piggledy Pickle
I've a bit of a problem here...
in a higgledy-piggledy pickle
torn between housewifery
and creative muses fickle.
Scattered, shattered fragments
of odd ideas, dreams
lay about my den, disguised
not nearly what they seem!
Bits of whimsy, what-nots
all cluttering my desk
covered in thick pixie dust
my housekeeping grotesque.
Higgledy-piggledy hodgepodge
my convoluted mess
a sign of utter genius
(or else mental distress).
I'd planned to tidy up...
to toss a few things out
but as I gaze upon them
they sniffle, weep and pout.
To think that I'd discard them!
Those former hopes and whims
unborn poems, paintings
their destiny quite grim.
Delicately backing out-
I apologize with care
as they cold-shoulder, look away
with such dramatic flair!
And when my husband asks me
just what I've done all day
I simply shrug “not much”
not knowing what to say.
How could I ever mention
the lurking living things
inside my head, upon my desk
that gently pull my strings?
The odd creative forces
that captivate me thus
wildly penning amid my piles
while he remains nonplussed!
Copyright © Rhona Mcferran | Year Posted 2019
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