Everywhere I turn,
a new memory visits—
a simple hair tie
sitting beside the hair clip
in the medicine cabinet.
A Bright Eyes t-shirt still lays at the bottom of the laundry basket.
The blue nursing uniform, and the pink stethoscope—marked with the initials “K.C.”—
a treasure,
a marking of a calling so great.
The letter from the hospital offering a placement
to a young, bright-eyed nursing graduate…
the “thank you,” and “love still lives here”—
a memoriam to a young life gone too soon.
A pink baby blanket, catching my tears,
lays by my side—
a comfort,
a promise
that was once a new beginning.
A gallery of pictures keeps your memory alive.
Plagued by memories of yesterday
when you were here with me.
Thank you for those memories
that will carry me forward—
until we meet again
in the big blue sky,
where every day I will hold you,
and the memory of the pain of losing you
will no longer torment me,
but will be a distant dream of a life
millions of miles away—
where my days were spent plagued by memories of you.
Everywhere I look,
you stare back at me—
a mini me,
gone too soon.
Laundry Room
The central activity in
the laundry room isn’t the action of
washing and
drying my tatty, smelly clothes, it’s
the Daily Redback Spider Race.
Also, the laundry basket leaks
gas. The linen cabinet doors in
the laundry sometimes turn the
dazzling colour of a
butterfly.
Once we were a matching pair, some days we’d get downbeat
as we both couldn't abide the stench of sweaty cheesy feet!
Our male owner would pop us in the washing machine
with warm soapy suds we’d soon smell fresh and clean
But now my ‘sole mate’ has gone missing and I am bereft
I was worn on the right foot, and he was worn on the left
Our owner removed the washing machine gasket
then checked the tumble drier and laundry basket
Alas my companion is still missing, life just isn’t fair
a single sock is useless, and I’m filled with despair
So my owner’s sock stock has now been depleted
and with my partner gone I’m feeling de-feeted!
What use is one sock, maybe one day I’ll be ‘heeled’
if the sock monster’s secret stash is suddenly revealed!
So for now I am consigned to the back of a drawer
with other odd socks and I'm sure there’ll be lots more!
Hello, I am a purple sock who has lost my mate recently,
we were beloved by our owner and she is real devastated !
She liked to wear us in her dance shoes and we liked it too,
we loved the whirling and twirling, and the leaping in the air.
Oh, where are you ? We miss you ! You are not in the dryer,
or in the washing machine, or laundry basket or under the
bed (sometimes you like it there.) I am laying on the dresser
crying, weeping. Our owner has not given up hope yet, (I think)
but, guess what- she just got a new pair of purple socks, sigh !
A vision seized me, before
The marriage of my kin.
Betrothed to a faith apart,
Like a stray from the hallowed ground;
where forefathers had etched:
A devout Catholic and a pioneer,
A premonition of life truth.
I wandered through the paddy field,
Where crystal water surged;
Fishes of all sizes I had a huge catch.
Between, a river parted,
As white as a snowy flake and high;
Down and below, muddy water reaches their neck.
A laundry basket, brimming over their balanced head
I waved them to join me where abundance flowed.
But they insisted on not coming,
For they had decided their life: shallow and creek
They'd to fetch the water with a small mug.
Life's destiny weaves one's tapestry
And no external forces can confine us.
Coming up the steps
Large laundry basket filled with
Clean clothes worn by all
I notice my heart rhythm
And wonder if this the last
Written: March 1, 2023
Soft life had decided to give In
A glass of vanilla yoghurt
A piece of cake for breakfast
A plate of macaroon for lunch
And some pasta for supper
Hiking on weekend to the mountain tops
And having some fun by the caves
On the green lands in the high relief
And even when the rains came
I was not afraid of wetting my clothes
Or dirtying my clothes in the mud
Cause in my little spacious room
There was a laundry basket
That will be emptied on my next hike
By the brown girl who'd come visiting
First basketballs were discarded peach baskets
With their full bottoms in them
Soccer balls were used
Officials had this dubious job
Had to climb a ladder to remove the ball
After each basket
Figured a woman with a laundry basket
With a big hole in the bottom
Was the first one to think of tearing the bottom out of peach baskets
"Ma, Ma" she gently calls,
Beautiful music to my ears,
"I love you Gramma!"
Then plants a kiss upon my cheek.
My first grandchild,
A precious gift from above,
Full with vibrant energy,
A delight to watch each day.
I am convinced at three,
She could become an acrobat,
She bounces on my bed,
And climbs upon the bed's head.
Her imagination is captivating,
as she drives her laundry basket car,
And plays with pots and pans,
No, store-bought toy could suffice.
She has the brightest smile ever,
And is one curious little thing,
That's my grand-daughter you see,
She means the world to me.
Let’s drop the baby out the window fifteen stories down.
I stare into the child’s eyes; why would I do that?
She trusts me. I ponder it but not meaning to.
You are a wimp. Just do it!
That voice again.
Who is it?
Why would they be telling me this?
I run with the baby
To get out of this hotel room
To get away from the voice
Of course she follows.
Screaming even more loudly.
I feel relief when I hand the baby back to her mother.
Not in her arms of course
Because then I would be arrested.
Police are all over that floor.
I leave her in the hallway in a laundry basket.
Hoping the right person will find her.
The voice is screaming as I return to my room.
The smallest room in the house,
Phew what a smell,
It smells so bad,
It's my lads,
Replace toilet roll,
End of the day it's used,
Do they eat it?????
It's my lads,
Hairs fill the plughole,
But are they from the head !!!! Or!!! Yuk,
Shampoo bottle empty again,
It's my lads,
Wet towels on the floor,
There are 4.... only two lads,
Have I got any dry left,
It's my lads,
Dirty clothes thrown in the corner,
Missing the laundry basket,
They won't pick them up,
It's my lads.
My laundry basket’s tall and round,
Of wicker or rattan.
We’ve had it since some years before
Our children’s lives began.
It sits beneath the windowsill,
Its cover in its place
And patiently accepts our clothes
‘Til it is out of space.
The sheet and towels, socks and shirts
And pants all end up there –
The spectrum of apparel
That my spouse and I do wear.
When wash day comes, just once a week,
The basket takes a rest
Until it’s time for one of us,
Again, to get undressed.
Pig Patty Plop ran into the Laundry mat,
From the awful butcher she was hiding.
Tired, busy mommy was taking some shirts out,
Bubbles hit the floor, and Patty was soon sliding.
She tried to hide under a young child's chair,
But the child let out an enormous scream.
She jumped into a white plastic laundry basket,
But her enormously fat posterior was not clean.
An apron-ed butcher walked in and glared around,
A maniacal man, holding his butcher knife.
On a cell phone we called the police in town.
and they arrested him, detectives from vice.
The pig was hailed a hero, and honored in the town hall.
Saving the rest of the crew from a butcher, deranged, was he.
As a prize for saving the rest of the patrons, eleven in all,
She was allowed to take a spin in washer number thirty- three
I got a splinter from the
Laundry basket made of straw.
I banged into the stepstool
So my shin is red and raw.
I knocked a chair right over
And it fell onto my toe.
Another one’s still injured
So I’ve only eight to go.
These wounds are all the products
Of my sad attempt to clean
Which is obviously, not to me,
A part of my routine.
I look up into your smiling eyes
I see happiness
I look at your stance
I see a solid foundation
For us to join together
To be as one ...I will be your bride
Dressed in virginal white
(Guess our holiday together doesn't count)
Our days from now on will be filled with laughter
No more tears of frustration because we're apart
To wake up next to your curly head of hair
Will try to forget the snoring bit
Ear plugs easily used, that leaves one thing
Maybe I should remember my manners ...just say
Please leave your socks in laundry basket.
I love you my man
Penned 7 September 2017
Contest: Shadow Hamilton ...Bride to Future Groom.
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