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Brenda Kahn Poem
Ode to Chores
By Brenda Kahn
When the Good Lord
In his wisdom, Hark!
Said “Separate
the light from dark.”
He surely didn’t
See that time
Would be a scarce
Resource to find
I throw my clothes-wash
In by person
Lest my crazed
Schedule worsen
If I did dark
Then later light
Lord knows I’d be
Doing wash all night
Now let’s take a
Look at dishes
Yes! I want to
Save the fishes
But if the washer
Doesn’t run
Each night the mornings
Won’t be fun
There will be no
Little spoons I trust
And everyone
Will miss the bus
And who is it
Who said that,
If we bought
A tabby cat
They would surely
Clean the litter
A chore which leaves me
Slightly bitter
Now babies
While they make a mess
Their culinary
In-ter-ests
Are simple
Older kids not so
They complicate things
As they grow
Till no meal happens
By the book
Less dinner – more
Short order cook
One says too sweet
One says no crust
One spits it out
With disgust
And if you find
A way to wrangle
Your whole brood
To the table
One eats fast
The other slow
Everyone answers
“I dunno”
Lordy what’s a mom to do
With such a cantankerous crew?
But I digress
Our topic here
Is what to do
With soccer gear
Piles of cleats
Sticks lacrosse
And other sporty
Stuff to toss
But instead
I make a bin
Label it
And throw stuff in
So take a cue
From my girl Eve
If you feel a sudden
Pull to leave
You’re not at all
The only one
Chores are simply
Not that fun.
Copyright © Brenda Kahn | Year Posted 2019
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Brenda Kahn Poem
Mom, Interrupted
When I sit down to write a song
Or read a book you come along,
And ask for just a little help
With numbers, letters or the like
And being kind, and some say wise
For a person of my years and size
I set down my hopes and dreams
And tend to yours -
For you are just a little tyke
While my creations come and go
(You are the best of them you know)
Like children running to and fro
I chase down words and thoughts that stray.
But just as things begin to click
There you are, feeling sick
And need to gently lie
Upon my lap and gently cry.
And so I stay-
Until you wander on your way.
Then somehow it’s half past noon!
Dinner plans are needed soon
So while my words pull at my sleeve
The half-writ page I have to leave.
I quickly clear the breakfast mess
Sort the dishes and the rest:
Prep some chicken to sauté,
Pre-cut carrots save the day –
Return with ease,
Fingers back down on the keys
What was that thought, so pure of heart
That took me to a world apart?
I close my eyes to think it through
Instead, see all I have to do
Search my mind
Try to ignore -
A package coming to the door
I hear the school bus on our street
A backpack dragging at his feet
Your brother tells me of his day
Filled with laughter and defeat
And tragic middle school deceit
The dog brings her shredded toy
Pushes it against my knees
Snacks and dinner
A lost shoe
Science homework
Glitter glue
By now I’ve quite forgotten
My essayist’s endeavor
By this hour
I’m too tired
To remember why
I was inspired.
Copyright © Brenda Kahn | Year Posted 2017
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Brenda Kahn Poem
Near the Singing
Christmas is coming
Christmas is near
Near the wintergreen tree
Near his fearful dreams
Dreams of hope
Dreams of peace
Peace and quiet
Peace to men
Men who rage
Men who try
Try to smile
Try to be
Be not noble
Be secure
Secure the latches
Secure the heart
Heart beats fast
Heart and Soul
Soul is reeling
Soul is healing
Healing the past
Healing Christmas
Christmas break
Christmas time
Time to wonder
Time to start over
Over coffee
Over-ly sweet
Sweet embrace
Sweet retreat
Retreat from the past
Retreat to the now
Now is here
Now is how
How we fix
How we own
Own the fear
Own the love
Love you small child
Love you small love
Love you heartache
Love you dear
Dear to me
Dear compassion
Compassion is the church bells ringing
Compassion is the children singing
Singing of a wintry Christmas
Singing carols bittersweet
Bittersweet . . .
Christmas . . .
Copyright © Brenda Kahn | Year Posted 2017
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