Saturday Poem

Saturdays of my 

Youth were spent 

Vacuuming floors and

Dusting furniture:

Household chores my

Mom insisted be done

Before any of us could

Have weekend fun. 

Friends would call with

Invitations, but until

Our home shone

Like a pretty penny

There was no reprieve.

Hatred of housework

Is too mild a phrase to

Explain my feelings then,

And even now I detest those

Chores that kept us all

Shut in.

Romantic daydreams

Helped such days go by;

Some days I was a servant girl

On others a glamorous spy.

I’d sing plaintive tunes and

Dance with my broom, 

Cinderella had nothing on me,

But no fairy godmother ever

Came to set this princess free.

 I am not a domestic goddess, despite my mom’s efforts to make me one. 

Peace, people!

Author: nananoyz

I'm a semi-retired crazy person with one husband and two cats.

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