In the Wash
Mountains piled up so high,
colours reaching to the sky.
The task at hand fills up the room,
the scent of softeners sweet perfume.
A fragrant mess to be sorted through,
separate piles for me and you.
Somewhere within, a wrinkled dress
and your good shirt that needs a press.
A bed now covered in folded frocks,
a victorious pile of folded socks.
Neatly sorted to be put away,
to lay in wait for another day.
As the piles shift from fresh to worn
another mountain of clothes is born.
The air fills with the heady scent,
of adventures and commitments met.
And somewhere amid the crumpled mess
An unworn gown and a shirt not pressed.
Michelle
I suppose, today I'm grateful that I don't have to travel to a laundry mat!
Spend some moment everyday in reflection of gratitude and happiness. Even if the time found is standing in line for coffee...use is wisely.
Michelle
Did this post brighten your day? make you smile? If so I'd be ever so grateful if you shared it on Facebook or Twitter. Someone else might be in need of a smile - Thanks!
