Sometimes, you do something, and it makes you want to write about it. Sometimes, the words dance around in your head, forming a poem, or a series of paragraphs. This was one of those times. I re-decorated my living room over the course of a weekend, and the words were just there, waiting to be put on paper. At first, it seemed silly to send this out into the universe, but it made me smile every time I read it, and it, happily, reminded me of that crazy day of decorating. I hope it makes you smile too.
She wants to move the furniture,
On a Sunday afternoon.
It’s always fun to decorate,
But first, she empties the room.
The room looks dull, so she gets some paint,
Decides to tape off a square.
Big and gorgeous, chalkboard black,
Perhaps, she’ll paint a pair?
The paint is drying, furniture is out,
The rug she brings back in.
It’s old, it’s small, but has to do,
Now for the fun to begin.
She pushes the sofa across the room,
Moves the rug at an angle.
Amused, she decides to vacuum the floor,
After finding a fork and a bangle.
Thought she was careful, but not enough,
Looks down at the scratched wooden floor.
No need to fix it, just cover it up,
By moving the rug some more.
The sofa sits on the rug, looking big,
She sits on a chair next to it.
The chair is old, the fabric worn,
And now, she’s gone straight through it!
She picks it up, and throws it out,
With a strength she never knew.
Another chair is quickly found,
Lucky, she has quite a few.
Another chair, another side,
The sofa is moved again.
She stops, and moves it back some more,
some more, then more again!
Decides to have a cup of tea,
To think of lots of things.
Looks at the mess, and dreams of poems,
Of Cabbages and Kings.
Up she gets, and washes her cup,
Determined to finish the room.
She checks the paint, and sees that it’s dry,
Sweeps the floor with a broom.
Brings in a bookshelf, some lamps and a painting.
Pillows, photographs, china and tables.
Arranges flowers and washes the floor,
Straightens the curtains, and opens the door.
The afternoon over, she smiles, at the end.
Her home is now different, but not a penny did she spend…..
Source by Wendy E. Wrzos