Ironing Poems - Poems about Ironing

Sits there and judges. How dare you mock me! Do you think I have time to perfect smocked sleeves? Turned down collars Frilly blouses Pleats wrinkle-free. You are redundant No longer of use Except as a doorstop Or in self-defence. I will not be cowed By your flat, grey face. I glory in chaos, Crumpled cottons and lace. I shy from the conservative Perfectly straight We will not have flatness Except on...

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Ironing board Bare feet You'd make me food I'd eat Little later straight clothes No holes Warm in winter The splinter I have no ironing board now But still that board reminds me how I have grown to not need so pressed clothes Oppressed woes But the ironing board Remains at your place I'll remember those days And of course your face The ironing board...

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The afternoon sunlight filtered through her window drapes revealing each age line molded to her face alone in the dusky shadows working in her measured way a basket of clothes at her feet one by one she pulled each wrinkled cloth out and began to iron their folded lines the sound of steam broke the silence a can of starch was on...

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The air is so chock full and thick with irony It must be hard to draw a single breath inside Without choking on it and gasping for oxygen But then again at very least Both my beard and moustache have grown a little longer in the meanwhile But isn't that the point of irony after all It helps you rather not contemplate think...

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Some ladies enjoy riding on their brooms All over the house, into all the rooms Gran rode the ironing board Only skis she could afford Off she'd ride, before ironing resumes Limerick Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Lisa YY July 17, 2022 ...

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Life brings mysteries to us like stars we can’t touch, much less dream to migrate to (with planets like ours?) where more life might exist! Evolution’s ‘God’s Law!’ Life’s predestined to tease those aspiring to map where things are in the landscape of lives that we live. Know (the reason?) that Christ chose to die for our sin - for if...

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Hot was the room that she sweated a lot, as the maid tired, ironing white shirts for her master who wanted to be dandy when he toyed with the ladies at the ball. 17 November 2020 Double Tetractys 6 Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Eve Roper Picture No 2 Placed 1 ...

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It sits under my stairs, It's been there a few weeks, Growing more each day, I put it off and do other stuff, I hate that thing under my stirs. I pass it ever day knowing it's there, Mentaly asking it "to please go away", I try to block it out as much as I can, There comes that day and it has...

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fall ironing day work clothes starched and creased rustling of birch leaves posted on June 17, 2018...

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Folding Flowers While Ironing Rocks in The Dark I load the washing machine up with my dirty wishes Found myself lost and broken in the kicthen All the writing on the bathroom stalls Surpasses the shoppers at the malls And why must I write about you at all You come before me and you think it a lark ...

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,.,.,. & 0* x A caged warehouse is a minotaur a minute. Basket carries baskets in endless increasing circles. But by day seemingly friendly boxes become very quiet when they are packed to the brim. And a wire cage is incredibly interesting to chat to for it sways with random objects and thus has developed an...

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in the laundry room of sky the angels wash the cloths of heaven hang them on the clouds to dry and then begin their cosmic ironing © Gail Foster 27th December 2016...

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Question for you, chicks and dudes, What is an ironing board to you? Did you know they were surfboards? Yes, they grow up, surf did bore, Surfboards got a day job, Being ironing boards is their lot, Nonsense I do compose, Only a joke in an ode!...

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If a pink elephant rides on a green wave then the tarantula will be under great pressure. Chains are a peril. Particularly when placed upon a coconut. Technical difficulties are often solved with the clear blue lines of a fountain pen. Or black. Any colour really. Whilst arranging blackberries on shelves be very very wary....

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I grasped the steam-iron with left hand, the right was straightening trouser band; it felt different, unusual, its hiss and feel, serpent’s thought made me reel I imagined it come up from lake, it felt much like a rattlesnake, its heat I conjured venomed-fang, turning skin to soft marang: and devil’s tail its tongue from steam, made imagined threat so...

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