24th January
Everywhere seems to have snow today ,but here in Herne Bay we just have grey skies and cold...
A poem from a few years ago.
It's so cold today. I've got four layers on but my fingers and feet are still like polar ice.
What are we carrying ? Do we feel it to be burdensome? Could we let go of some things, rearrange others ? Are we weighed down and would we like to feel somewhat lighter? These are some of the questions that came to my mind with a particular poem we pondered at the Poetry for Wellbeing workshop that I attended last week.
It was interesting what came up . I remembered a time when I had all the children at home. I was always chasing my tail trying to keep up with everything and had an enormous pile of ironing which , no matter how hard I worked, I never seemed to get to the end of .
So this poem came out of that:
The Ironing
And the whole pile is slipping,
it'll end up on the floor
it'll get all dirty
and I'll have to do more
washing.
My husbands shirts
ten or twelve
my four son's school uniform
trousers - cotton
the girls skirts - pleated.
It's the first thing I see
when I enter the room,
this mighty monster
prophet of doom
looking at me,
goading me
daring me
I'm not going anywhere
until you make
time to get round to me
I'll keep you awake
But today I've decided
I'll not do it anymore
for all I care,
It can fall on the floor
Ah no, that's no good
Instead,
let's fold it neatly
put it away
get rid of the bully
yes, that's the way.
Right, clear the table
and away we go,
a pile for each person
they'll never know
And before I know it
the jobs all done.
Now, time for a cuppa
and a currant bun
