Thursday, February 20, 2014
Clean Sheets Day
Hurray, hurray, it’s Clean Sheets Day.
No time to read, no time to play.
Tasks abound, they always do,
grocery shopping, ironing too.
I promised, after all those miles,
to be of service, wearing smiles.
I cook the meals, sometimes well.
I love it when they cast a spell
of happiness, unfettered glee,
it really means so much to me
to see the pleasure it gives you,
it’s truly selfish, what I do.
The cleaning is, at best, not bad,
we need those visits from the maid.
I hope it agrees with my honey,
I need help, the maid needs money.
The dishes are an easy chore,
it cleans my fingernails, what’s more.
But nothing seems so much like play
as Thursday, known as Clean Sheets Day.
Towels, undies, pants, a shirt
are ridden of their nasty dirt.
I always save the sheets for last,
so they’re the final item cast
upon the bed before we sleep,
their clean fresh fragrance ours to keep
in memory as we drift off,
our daily aches so soon to doff,
remembering at last to pray
we’ll make it to next Clean Sheets Day.