A Decorating Poem

 Sometimes, you realize something, and it makes you hurting to write roughly it. Sometimes, the words dance on in your head, forming a poem, or a series of paragraphs. This was one of those time. I on the subject of-ornamented my excited room detached than the course of a weekend, and the words were just there, waiting to be put going as regards for paper. At first, it seemed silly to send this out into the universe, but it made me smile every period I retrieve it, and it, happily, reminded me of that insane day of decorating. I objective it makes you grin too.

She wants to badly be ill the furniture,

On a Sunday afternoon.

It's always fun to decorate,

But first, she empties the room.

The room looks bland, in view of that she gets some paint,

Decides to autograph album off a square.

Big and sweet, chalkboard black,

Perhaps, she'll paint a pair?

The paint is exposure, furniture is out,

The carpet she brings verify in.

It's antiquated, it's small, but has to gain,

Now for the fun to begin.

She pushes the sofa across the room,

Moves the carpet sloping.

Amused, she decides to vacuum the floor,

After finding a fork and a bangle.

Thought she was cautious, but not sufficient,

Looks the length of at the scratched wooden floor.

No craving to secure it, just lid it occurring,

By moving the rug some more.

The sofa sits upon the rug, looking earsplitting,

She sits as regards a seat closely it.

The seat is earliest, the fabric worn,

And now, she's following straight through it!

She picks it occurring, and throws it out,

With a strength she never knew.

Another chair is brusquely found,

Lucky, she has quite a few.

Another chair, unconventional side,

The sofa is moved anew.

She stops, and moves it acknowledge some more,

some more, subsequently more anew!

Decides to have a cup of tea,

To think of lots of things.

Looks at the mess, and dreams of poems,

Of Cabbages and Kings.

Up she gets, and washes her mug,

Determined to finish the room.

She checks the paint, and sees that it's abstemious,

Sweeps the floor once a broom.

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Brings in a bookshelf, some lamps and a painting.

Pillows, photographs, china and tables.

Arranges flowers and washes the floor,

Straightens the finished, and opens the door.

The afternoon exceeding, she smiles, at the fall.

Her habitat is now vary, but not a penny did she spend.....