Tag Archives: poems about housework

Yolanda for the dVerse Poet’s Pub

Click on photos to enlarge.

Yolanda

She plucks the dirty clothes
like field flowers from the basket,
her journey to the laundry
another joyful excursion 
from room to room in my house.
Did she enjoy her vacation? I ask.
She shakes her head no.
She’d rather be working,
she insists.

Every task,
fulfilled to perfection,
builds her pleasure in the day.
She dusts the picture frames,
folds the towels,
steals her dusting cloth back from the playful puppy,
then takes the dish sponge from my hand.
Let her, she says,
and you go write a poem!

Y, en espanol. Gracias, Lisa.  oxoxox

Yolanda

Ella arranca la ropa sucia
como flores de campo de la canasta,
su viaje a la lavandería
otra excursión
alegre de habitación en habitación en mi casa.
¿Disfrutó de sus vacaciones? Pregunto.
Ella sacude la cabeza no.
Ella preferiría estar trabajando,
ella insiste.

Cada tarea,
cumplido a la perfección,
construye su placer en el día.
Ella desempolva los marcos de los cuadros,
dobla las toallas,
roba su tela de polvo del cachorro juguetón,
 luego toma la esponja del plato de mi mano.
Déjala, dice,
 ¡y vas a escribir un poema!

A double quadrille for the dVerse Poets Pub, the task set by Lisa is to compose a quadrille on the topic of work. To see the prompt itself and the wonderful poems it quotes to name the task, go HERE. And to read poems that answer the prompt, go HERE.

Back Window

Back Window

I take a break from my last chore
to peer through glass, ceiling to floor.
For though a view I never lack,
my house’s eyes are all in back.
I watch the gardener cut and trim,
the locksmith to the right of him.

One scrubs the algae from the pool—
a craftsman polishing his jewel.
A man on ladder repairs the wall,
the tree-trimmer the highest of all.
See how we tend her outer skin–
they without and we within?

Yolanda sweeps the terrace floor,
then comes inside to sweep some more.
Inside I watch and labor, too,
for there are many tasks to do.
I dust and gather detritus,
smooth out wrinkles, straighten muss.

Three days a week we labor so
until I wonder if I know
which is the owner and which the thing
that luxury and comfort brings?
Dear house, is it you that harbors me,
or am I here to maintain thee?

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          The Boss:
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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Lookin’ Out My Back Door.”
Look out your back window or door — describe what you see.