IRONING
Ironing isn’t too bad most of the year,
It’s a lot worse in the summer I fear,
A nice warm job when snow is around,
But not on days when humidity abounds.
There is one shirt that’s a pain to iron,
You have to work hard your weight press on,
It is heavy cotton but looks so crisp and white
When it is worn it is such a wonderful sight.
I have just finished the ironing and the last thing
Was his cotton shirt, many wrinkles did bring,
You cannot get away of doing just one side
For somehow that shirt often creases does hide.
Both sides of each long sleeves just for starters,
In summer makes one feel like long ago martyrs,
If you do the front first the back is a real mess
And if the back is done first the front is hard to press.
Sweat drips into your eyes and down your nose too,
You feel quite weak and wan when you are through,
But if your husband wears white shirts to church,
It’s an act of kindness to iron, not leave him in the lurch.
It may be a job that requires a dress shirt every day,
Only on Saturday does a casual one come our way,
Unless there is a wedding or some dress up fancy do,
Don’t die at seven shirts just pretend there’s just a few.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson 8 June 2005