(untitled)

a poem about laundry. :)

I'll hide behind these clotheslines
Cos you can't see me there.
I dance among our clean white sheets;
They're swinging in the wind.
Scrubbed upon a washing board,
They smell of newborn spring.
Lay with me on these linens
Til we need to clean again.

Reviews

[L.I. Black]

Ooooh free verse!
I'm quite fond of this style for some reason, I find it harder to write this way than actually rhyme. Odd as that may seem, so admire people who can pull it off so well.
I love the images it forms in my mind...
It could easily be taken as a wonderful romantic style or at the same time, could be almost like children talking. I really love it! All around wonderful work.