Fit Pitchin’ Friday: Ode to Spring… cleaning that is

Sun you have awoken,
from your slumber.
Unto the sky,
you slowly lumber.
Birds, they sing,
wing to the air.
Signs of spring whisper,
here and there.

Crumbs huddle,
beneath every chair.
What are those bunnies,
dust or hare?

Piles of clothes,
boxes who’s contents
no one knows.

Dust over here..
Gunk over there..
out grown tiny underwear.

The pile of crap
grows and grows.
Who’ll clean this mess
no one knows.

In actuality,
we all  know who you think SHE will be
Darling family…
She ain’t ME!



9 thoughts on “Fit Pitchin’ Friday: Ode to Spring… cleaning that is”

  1. This is too cute! I love the line about the tiny underware.
    What's really funny is that in THIS house, it ain't me who does it, I am a kept woman. Hubby does all that kind of stuff. How lucky am I – You may all be jealous of me now. 🙂

  2. Great poem. Something to show that man of the house so he will get off the ball and do those household chores he is supposed to do. I do all the housework and it never makes me feel less manly. So come on guys, time to clean!

    Gotta go. Wifey needs me to paint her toenails. Coming dear!

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