Written by Susan Lane

A Day in the Life of the Washing Machine

Such a nice start to the day 
Washing the bed sheets that’s my aim 
I’ve eaten towels, fabric whitener, 
Wash tabs, softener and colour run sheets too, 
A whole gamut of billy do 
To get rid of the dirt that sticks like glue 

I’m ready to boil everything that I eat 
I sloosh and whirr, then I heat, 
I give a little spin to converse
I’m totally ignored
Just as though I’m a curse
Or a sin
I’m quite lonely because
That’s what happens 
When you’re a machine near the bin 

But I’m now more fortunate because 
The lady of the house you see 
Has moved the bins away from me
The rubbish is binned each day 
What a touch, no smell, weyhey
So chuffed, I’m pleased to say 

She doesn’t like that smell near me 
But she needs to sort out that top 
Cos it’s so cluttered, totally 
It’s been a good couple of hours 
Since the lady of the house loaded me 
I’ve whirred and I’ve slooshed 
I’ve spun a lot too 

But I’m almost done for today, 
So now maybe 
I think I’ll just sit and shout 
That I’m finished you see 
Then I’ll snooze for the rest of the day, Whoopee!

Early Morning Machine Call

When you lot are sleeping come the morn 
I shall again be having breakfast 
Of clothes full of grime 
Nice and early, that’s the best time 
It’s always good you see 
Cos then I use the cheap electricity 

The only thing of course 
Is the noise I make but it would be worse 
If the laundry bin was overflowing you see 
With all the dirty washing that was waiting for me 
So regardless of the time 
My lady gets me ready 
Cos she’s not happy if I’m not fed regularly 

She likes all her whites to brightly glow 
And her coloureds to be 
Full of nature’s vibrancy 
So, remember I’ll be up at early dawn 
Isn’t it good to be forewarned 
That way you’ll be able to read 

Anything on my poetry blog 
Just click the Blog link to see 
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For any or all of ColourMine’s latest 
Poems or musings 

Well, now for my excuse 
I need to leave 
I’m off to watch my lady 
Slowly sip her tea, 
Or maybe because I don’t have 
A sense of smell 
Could it possibly be 
Asti, hehe

© Susan Lane. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form without prior written permission from the author.

ColourMine poetry, and the original photographs, are completely authentic to myself, Susan Lane – no AI, no plagiarism, all checked and verified by copyleaks

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More poems written by Susan Lane, and you can choose by category

Blog | Organic voice | A happy survival of triumph here

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