‘Tidy your room’, his Mum said,
the same Mum who loved to leave
a trail of evidence behind her
as she travelled through childhood
.
A book she read, a sketch half done
some Lego and an apple core
a sock, some Pokemon cards
a rainbow of pens
‘Tidy your room every day’ I urged
‘no matter how tired you are’
.
Forgetting that I was the one
who accepted praise for
an immaculate room until
my Mum thought to look
under the bed
.
I wonder if my mother’s mother
suffered the same tribulations,
fearing for the state
of civilization?
.
In their defense
these busy souls have no time
to fold their clothes and put them away
when there are books to get lost in
daydreams to dream
skateboards to ride
games to invent
hideouts to build
snacks to concoct
and music to play
.
By Carys Owen
.
Based on the prompt of incorporating a specific piece of advice into a poem-
‘At the end of each day fold your clothes and put them away, no matter how tired you are.’
d’Verse Poet’s Pub