Just one more load of laundry
Piled high upon the bed
Just one more then I notice
His little sleepy head.
Just one more batch to run through
And though my works not done
At least he’s snuggled comfortably
My handsome little son.
Sometimes I stop and think about
The time so long ago
When I would climb on mamas bed
And snuggle down below
Oh to be a child again
That wondrous childhood bliss
Without a care in all the world
Those days I surely miss.
But then I start to realize
If I hadn’t lived and grown
I wouldn’t have what I have now
These littles of my own.
So off I go to get stuff done
To wash and fold and press
More grateful in my heart for all
The laundry, love and mess.
~Hillary Cooke
January 19, 2022
