Tempus Fugit
another day is almost done
scented bubbles - an anticipation
warm water calls her by her name:
a relaxing "mom time" accommodation
with exhalation, hands gently grasping
a book binding worn to smooth
eyes lusting for a deep escape
each written word meant to soothe
her heart covertly coveting,
for a short time, an empty abode
her favorite novel only just begun
short self-care arrangement is bestowed
time ticks its fast advancement
bathwater wrinkles, besetting
children caterwauling with woes of needs
each knock - a sound on nerves - upsetting
husband now calling through the door
she's pleading for a moments peace:
"One more page," she responds to all
hoping for the complaints to cease
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