Fair Deal (True Love in the House edit)

[ellajam]

My hate for vacuums knows no bounds,
no dust is worth that clumsy beast;
I cringe at its obnoxious sounds.
I'd rather cook a full-blown feast,
my kitchen humming in my head:
the hissing pan for meat or crepe,
the soothing squeak of dough for bread
against the board, the beater's scrape.

Alone I clear each meal's debris
and scrub the porcelain sink, again
the dinner cleanup's left to me.
I guess I really can't complain;
he vacuums carpets, washes clothes,
two gifts more dear than gem or rose.


*from NaPM

Hi ellajam,
I enjoyed this one in April, there isn't much to change for me as I think it works in a simple way. The poem builds nicely on your avoidance of the vacuuming to a dream like, well oiled kitchen in full flow, then it sets us up with the sympathy vote, all alone cleaning and scrubbing, aww. I really didn't see the end coming and the last line for me is perfect and reminds us it a sonnet, yes you could tinker with the opening to avoid the double no but I wouldn't change too much. Best Keith

Thanks, Keith, I never thought of the double no, that goes with True's comment, and getting rid of bounds will dump sounds, which is bland anyway. And maybe I can think of another title, I stink at those.

Appreciate the read and comments, though it's simple I knew there must be something to poke.