Monday, January 23, 2012

The Monday Table

In search of a bit of clear white space,
Turning off my designer’s eye,
I seek only a breakfast place,
Recounting my weekend with a sigh.

This mess of incongruity is the Monday table:
Fraught with papers, books, and half-eaten fare.
I strain and wonder, How am I able
To finish Sunday night with this mess lying here?

Reading headlines of the papers I pile,
Belongings of other rooms I stack,
Housewares to be washed, I collect and smile,
This effort is my life, it’s not my lack.

As I recount another fruitful weekend,
Filled with activity, joy, and with thought,
It’s not my housekeeping that’s gone off the deep end,
It’s simply my is still approaching my ought


C. August said...

Well, that's just brilliant. Thought provoking, chuckle inducing. Bravo!

Jenn Casey said...

What he said. Also, I have a Monday Table every day of the week, I think. But that's okay. :)

Lynne said...

Merci beaucoup, mes amis!

Also, my table is more or less like this everyday, but it's somehow an affront to my Monday mornings.