flew away way, up a kye and landed in another nest.
He wasn't quite as bad as the poem makes out!
Jeez - Oh! You've been sloppy, I don't understand
why your room was addressing your messy demand!
Where everything's tumbled and tangled in stead
headboard to sideboard and under the bed!
Ciggy-end ashtrays made up from all things -
soda cans mainly that leave sticky rings
Take-away boxes would grow their own crust -
how on earth did this room not implode or combust?!
Spilling the guts of the wastepaper bin
you're Adam's descending, original sin!
Those books and a couple of 'art ' magazines -
seems there's more than surroundings that's needing a clean!
That broken old shade with the light bulb amid
saw more of your room than fresh air ever did!
Plugs still alive with no item on charge
with telly and DVD giving it large!
Carpet strewn with your undies and work clothes each night
while the wash-machine struggles to keep up the fight
Your night-out clothes end up a right knotted mess -
smelling of musk and a need to confess.............'
Dusters, detergent's all under no quota
those frontiers of cleanliness wiped from your rota
Yet I'd still risk the danger, go down on my knees
to once again buy in blue cans of Febreeze
Your my messy-man-missing, a tidy-free nutter
perfecting the whole art of, taste, smell and clutter
How I wish I could hold you in long house arrest
to fill up my loss and this huge empty nest!
*****************************************
9 comments:
awwwwwww, mama has "empty nest" syndrome. :(
I like your humorous use of rhyming couplets here.
Your my messy-man-missing, a tidy-free nutter
perfecting the whole art of, taste, smell and clutter
Hehehe! How many would agree wholeheartedly with your fun take on this Mag? I loved it!
Poor Lena , just memories of the messy chick, i am sure he will be back !
He sounds almost as messy as me LOL
As a mother of a now grown son I know how it feels and can recognise this poem's sentiment. Great poem.
Nicely done...thanks for sharing
I don't normally like poetry very much, but that one is good.
Our pretty boy has just returned to the bloody nest, and it feels like a cuckoo has landed.
Or a plague of bloody locusts.
THERE WAS NO BLOODY BREAD FOR MY TOAST THIS MORNING.
ha moms are all the same. till we land up washed up on your doorstep again. then it's "go to rehab!" or "get a job!" all over again.
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