The Progeny
A Charge to Sweep
The church just down the road was calling, "Time to sweep the floor!"
I whistled as I grabbed my keys and hustled out the door.
I swept into the parking lot and leapt from out the car,
I went down to the basement, 'cause, the vacuum waited thar.
It waited for me, quiet like, within the closet dark,
Just hoping for a human to come by and give it spark.
For some the task of sweeping would be odious and drear,
For me it is a fertile time, the mind is running clear.
The brain is free to plan and scheme and percolate and brew,
And organize all SORTS of things that I would like to do.
For instance:
I.... could.... sweep into the pastor's study, clean it up and then,
Make a few "adjustments" to his sermon notes with pen.
In pondering the kids at home and all their schooling fears,
I could devise some harder subjects, sure to bring on tears.
I thought about our daughter and the job that she did get,
And wondered at the chance that I could ride the corporate jet.
But broader, farther, ever onward did my thoughts expand,
To visions of improvement o're the problems of the land.
This "Global Warming" stuff about which everyone is screamin',
I've got a SUPER plan to change it all and I'm not dreamin'.
See, all the people in the world make extra cubes and ices,
And throw them outside every noon and yell out, "No more crisis!"
And just as I was warming up to more amelioration,
(And consequently spreading too much heat around the nation)
An idea popped upon my brain that I might be a sinner,
If I didn't come back down to earth and think about some dinner.
With thoughts of making meat loaf I prepared to head for home,
"I came, I swept, I thought!" (and yes, I also wrote this poem) Tweet
I whistled as I grabbed my keys and hustled out the door.
I swept into the parking lot and leapt from out the car,
I went down to the basement, 'cause, the vacuum waited thar.
It waited for me, quiet like, within the closet dark,
Just hoping for a human to come by and give it spark.
For some the task of sweeping would be odious and drear,
For me it is a fertile time, the mind is running clear.
The brain is free to plan and scheme and percolate and brew,
And organize all SORTS of things that I would like to do.
For instance:
I.... could.... sweep into the pastor's study, clean it up and then,
Make a few "adjustments" to his sermon notes with pen.
In pondering the kids at home and all their schooling fears,
I could devise some harder subjects, sure to bring on tears.
I thought about our daughter and the job that she did get,
And wondered at the chance that I could ride the corporate jet.
But broader, farther, ever onward did my thoughts expand,
To visions of improvement o're the problems of the land.
This "Global Warming" stuff about which everyone is screamin',
I've got a SUPER plan to change it all and I'm not dreamin'.
See, all the people in the world make extra cubes and ices,
And throw them outside every noon and yell out, "No more crisis!"
And just as I was warming up to more amelioration,
(And consequently spreading too much heat around the nation)
An idea popped upon my brain that I might be a sinner,
If I didn't come back down to earth and think about some dinner.
With thoughts of making meat loaf I prepared to head for home,
"I came, I swept, I thought!" (and yes, I also wrote this poem) Tweet
posted by Ma Hoyt | 5:09 PM
4 Comments:
Super, Mommy!
I remember coming up with some strange and interesting things working housekeeping at the cabins or on the LU Janitorial crew...but I always blamed it on the chemicals...
:-p
Brilliant!
It amazes me that the most mundane activities can inspire the most useful thoughts (not to mention entertaining verse).
Martinez, congratulations! Your astute comments gain you automatic "will status." In the event that you have already been granted this honor, you would now merit double portion.(which means that now you owe twice as much)
Sharon, being kin, you already have sufficient status in the will.
Anna, your comments are somewhat more enigmatic. I will say this: after sweeping up myriads of "lady bird beetles," I can always look forward to their noxious fumes assaulting me, causing the very real possibility of hallucinations. Fortunately, this altered mental status only lasts for approximately a month, until the filter is changed.
While our lawyers recommended your will status remains "pending," until they could more carefully comb through your comments, I, out of the generosity (not to mention humility) of my personage, do deem thee fit for "willage."
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