Laura’s Life
Bakes a cake, paints a toe, rides her bike, plays in snow
Goes to work, cleans her house, feeds the cat, sews a mouse
Sees her friend, takes a walk, writes a book, has a talk
Gives him sex, the kids a hug, wipes the table, vacuums rug
Makes a lunch, walks to school, dinners on, makes a rule
Plays with kids, drives to dance, helps with homework, irons pants
Watch a movie, have a shower, goes to bed, ungodly hour
Calls a friend, writes a letter, folds the laundry, things no better
Fights with husband, takes a call, another birthday, goes to mall
Does the laundry, gases car, picks up milk, finds a jar
Cans the pickles, makes a pie, fixes casserole, takes a sigh
Goes to brownies, drive to sports, bakes some cookies, makes a torte
Folds the laundry, cleans a drawer, washes windows, answers door
Takes out garbage, changes bed, cleans a toilet, now she’s dead
Holds her head up, pushes on, fixes tea. What went wrong?
Written by Sherrie
Bakes a cake, paints a toe, rides her bike, plays in snow
Goes to work, cleans her house, feeds the cat, sews a mouse
Sees her friend, takes a walk, writes a book, has a talk
Gives him sex, the kids a hug, wipes the table, vacuums rug
Makes a lunch, walks to school, dinners on, makes a rule
Plays with kids, drives to dance, helps with homework, irons pants
Watch a movie, have a shower, goes to bed, ungodly hour
Calls a friend, writes a letter, folds the laundry, things no better
Fights with husband, takes a call, another birthday, goes to mall
Does the laundry, gases car, picks up milk, finds a jar
Cans the pickles, makes a pie, fixes casserole, takes a sigh
Goes to brownies, drive to sports, bakes some cookies, makes a torte
Folds the laundry, cleans a drawer, washes windows, answers door
Takes out garbage, changes bed, cleans a toilet, now she’s dead
Holds her head up, pushes on, fixes tea. What went wrong?
Written by Sherrie
My friend is burned out. I wrote this poem for her ten years ago, I remember it was the beginning of March, 1996. It took five minutes to write. Not usually the norm for me! It was inspired by her busy existence, during the lowest ebb in my life. She had it mounted in her study for many years, it's now been replaced by a child's award. I suspect it sits there collecting dust, no one heeding the suggestion that she does way too much. As the years have passed, she has lovingly incorporated even more into that list.
I think her creative spirit is crying for attention. Seems she has to joust, for a small fraction of time to do what she loves. People shouldn't have to fight for time to be creative and alone with their thoughts. Constantly I hear women having to justify their right to follow their creative bliss. It makes me sad! Why can’t people see the needs of these women?
Seems I am continuously defending women who have done all the obligatory family things and now just want to do what they love. If you have lived close to fifty years and everything has taken precedence over you, then why is it unacceptable to do your own thing? Shame on those who deter the creative spirit!
I think her creative spirit is crying for attention. Seems she has to joust, for a small fraction of time to do what she loves. People shouldn't have to fight for time to be creative and alone with their thoughts. Constantly I hear women having to justify their right to follow their creative bliss. It makes me sad! Why can’t people see the needs of these women?
Seems I am continuously defending women who have done all the obligatory family things and now just want to do what they love. If you have lived close to fifty years and everything has taken precedence over you, then why is it unacceptable to do your own thing? Shame on those who deter the creative spirit!
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