Still Life - Dare

Here lies my notepad, covered in scrawl, my pencil rolls on to the table I watch as it rolls and suspect it may fall, but it stops at the edge, balanced and stable The cloth it is on is yellow and blue, sliced into squares of three inches or so Not every one has the same hue, but it's waterproof cloth and useful for dough There are mats on the table roughly stacked, big ones and small ones, kind of cyan and marbled indigo patterns are tracked, round the neatly drawn boarder of coppery tan A stainless steel trivet spirals beside, bright in the sunshine, it's hurting my eyes The daffodils in their blue vase abide, the sweetest aroma doth rise to the skies I sit here on one of five chairs, all wooden and carved, and matching the table And because my wife cares, each one has a cushion, but you'll not find a label She made them by hand, and each one is tied, with bows in the corners to stop it from falling To the carpet that's blue upon which they stand, with delicate swirls and flowers it's crawling A cuckoo clock hangs on the wall by the window, it's occupant hidden and quiet for now But when he pops out and looks just below, to one side is a painting we love and how It shows some puppies who run round a bend, one of them trips and slides onto the frame Beneath the picture a pipe doth wend, to a radiator that's white, they all look the same Behind me stands our pride and joy, a dresser of magnificent proportions top shelf holds a wind up toy, and in the back a silver platter, reflects the room with weird distortions Here we keep our trinkets and glasses, safe from the danger of falling or dust And as I write the morning passes, my coffee mug's empty, there are chores to do and I fear I must PD's dare was "Can you really poet and rhyme everything around you"