Time to Write

A pile of dark clean wrinkled clothes
lie here by my side.
All I want to do is write.
Another pile sits on top the dryer,
Words tumble inside my head.
On the rocking chair there’s another pile.
These lines I’d rather pen.
Dust covers the wood throughout,
I’ll get to that tomorrow.
Thank God for the dishwasher,
it’s humming sound a comfort.

The children received their meals all three,
teeth brushed, bodies clean,
homework done, conversations had,
games played, prayers prayed,
sunshine visited.
They sleep soundly now.

But those piles still remain.
How plentiful are they.
They realize,
the lavatories were scrubbed today.
So they wait for me,
Longing for me,
Yet, they know,
I’d rather
Read,
Write,
Create.
And I do,
I deserve to
before I forget these words
that have tumbled inside my head.

(I'm still trying to make time to write my inspiring story on home based business woman Sarah Long. I interviewed her yesterday. Until then I hope you enjoyed this poem that I wrote several months ago. Check back soon to find out how Sarah started her successful "Brown Dog Studio" business.)