Exhausted.

Exhausted.

A Monday morning crisp and dry,
The dirty linen piled up high,
She’s sorting colours: dark and white.
The laundry must be dry tonight.

The driving wind brings on the clouds,
And turns her certainties to doubts,
Yet no-one knows the housewife’s plight:
The laundry must be dry tonight.

Her husband, children and the rest,
All know she does her very best,
But no-one sees the weekly fight.
The laundry must be dry tonight.

This rushing in and out all day,
Without a ‘Thank you,’ smile or pay.
A constant race, for time is tight:
The laundry must be dry tonight.

A draughty attic would be fine,
As long as she can tie a line,
And string the clothes from left to right.
The laundry must be dry tonight.

Alas, there’s nothing of this kind
And she gets more and more behind.
Then sun returns to her delight.
The laundry must be dry tonight.

Exhausted, she stops for a break;
A cup of tea, a slice of cake.
Then off again, there’s no respite:
The laundry must be dry tonight.