Doing the Dishes:- A poem

A poem for the lovely goddesszero

Doing The Dishes

I stand and wash the dishes
The sink all filled with soap
I rinse the plates of fishes
With marigolds I will cope.

The mugs all brown with tannin
The spoons all grey with cream
The roasting dish all crusty brown
One wipe and they are clean

And so I turn to drying
Tea towel in my hand
I’ve got the cleanest dishes
From here to Sunderland.

Ah thank you