Short Tidied Poems

Cheeky,
Hello trouble!
Everything to be tidied up,
Everything, I said!
Kiss Daddy? 
You cheeky monkey!...

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Marie McCaid was a hotel maid.
She tidied rooms where guests had laid.
On opening Room thirty-four
the odor sent her to the floor.
One guest had clearly overstayed....

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On this date,we both celebrate!
when our paths came together!
I met my mate over broth filled plate!
then felt daft!when the soup trickled over!
we both broke out in laughter!
as you tidied up my chin!
Will you be my pal forever?
Master and mistress in everything?...

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The poor man tidied up
his poor shack for shelter
with sales boards...
It didn't protect him from danger
 of  the streets,
neither from the sun
or the rain...
There was no private toilet,
nor private life...
In front  side of the shack shelter,
an imposing poster announces:
"MANSION FOR SALE" !...

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Refreshed and rejuvenated, I cleaned my room
Scoured my kettle, tidied up my riding broom
Put spell books in alphabetical order
Rebuilt my back stairs with brick and mortar.

Now I am pooped and have to take a nap.
Curled up in my black cloak and witch’s hat
My familiar is curved up in a ball next to me.
She will lick me awake when it’s time for tea....

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The day after Christmas is always a little 
anticlimactic the gifts opened – the wrappings 
and ribbons all tidied, although a few gifts 
may arrive late and our Boxing Day guests 
may add a few.

But we're past the solstice, 
days will slowly get longer
and the moon rising over 
the valley’s leafless trees
was a bit over half-full 
– kinda like my mood. 
...

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Have you wiped off the traces of me
Our shared photo albums, emails?
Have you tidied up your memory
Are you sure it is cleaned of my trails?
You had no time to spare a minute
I quite understand, knowing that
You are completely within it
When problems dictate the impact
Defending your life, you don’t need me
Concentration is all you need
But what if I too, concentrate on thee,
Will you cut me off as a useless weed?...

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One more day I slept serene,
while some where distant bombs
and screams awaken others from their dreams..
One more day I quenched my thirst
while others trapped and feared the worst,
living out war's curse.
One more day I tidied, swept, while elsewhere
children died, mothers wept,
cried in anguish, so bereft..
One more day my skies were blue.
I ventured out with things to do,
while others watched their world unglue....

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There's always been Ethel
isn't it time you tidied your room now
and Mr Thomas is he getting any better now
mowing his lawn
Sunday market, all sundry
roast pork and frilly laces
and I remember the voice from the past

Getting better in your verte garden
with red azaleas awash and pool full
a slithering grass snake
to awaken the soul

there's a pancrea for those in a rush
when the sun is alight
due lovers, gambling your fortune
its one big swoop



...

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