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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/profile/blog/sindbad/day/11-3-2024
Rated: 13+ · Book · Experience · #2171316
As the first blog entry got exhausted. My second book
Evolution of Love Part 2
November 3, 2024 at 11:06am
November 3, 2024 at 11:06am
#1079436

It's 8.30am
The maid has not arrived.

The breakfast is not ready,

And I have tiffins to fill.

The laundry heap increases,

The groceries need refill.

The elder one has homework,

The younger one's still sleeping.

There's no bread in the fridge,

The milk just spills over.

I have a conference today,

My shirt needs ironing.

There's a workshop in the school,

I don't know how to manage.

My mother in law is here,

To ask medicines for backache.

A call from the bathroom

“I’ve forgotten the towel ”

The cat mews, the birds chirp,

The plants need watering.


The phone beeps

To remind me of a case (procedure).

The receptionist calls,

Full appointments overall.

My shoulders aches,

I have noone to tell.

My eyes are heavy,

With last night's on call.

I don't remember the last time,

I had been to the parlor.

My nails are brittle,

My hair needs a color.

My clothes have lost the sheen,

I need a wardrobe makeover.

But before that I've to pick up,

The toys that are scattered.

I think it was last year,

When I spoke to my sister.

Can't recollect the moment,

When I chatted with my mother.


I'm no feminist,

I'm no atheist,

I know not what I'm,

More than a housekeeper,

a mother and a doctor.

I may be an orator,

A painter, an artist,

A singer, a poetess,

A traveller, a cyclist,

A writer, a musician,

A craftsman, philanthropist.

The last time I tried,

To find out my ability,

My child scored badly,

And you know what followed exactly.

So next time she got a gold medal,

They praised her father's genes,

I remembered my trophies,

Which no one had seen.

I know not what my daughter,

Will do after growing up.

But I'm sure these responsibilities

Will never stop to follow her.



Marriages are made in heaven,

Love is a fairly tale.

I'm sure every working woman,

Has a different story to tell.

So, whenever you look,

At a house that's tidy,

A child who is happy,

Intelligent and healthy,

Remember, it's the woman behind,

Who sacrificed her sleep,

her degrees, her passion,

her ambitions and needs.

Give her a pat, a word of praise,

a ear to listen, *_a helping hand_*

It's always a woman,

who makes the house a home.

But it's everyone's duty,

To make her feel at home.


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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/profile/blog/sindbad/day/11-3-2024