I hated helping Nana as she stood in the cold,
Hanging bed sheets on the laundry line with pins.
On freezing cold days, they became shaky bricks.
And were painful when they hit you on the shins.
But, the sweet smells of those sheets on our beds,
As they kept us toasty warm from head to feet,
Have never been successfully duplicated today,
In the ritzy fragrant scents of dryer sheets.
My age is telling today! Poem written for The Three Things Challenge for the Haunted Wordsmith: laundry line, shaky, Nana. Here in the American South, we called them clotheslines and clothespins. Fandango prompt is Ritzy.
A
How are you feeling about your poetry, Regina? You seem to be progressing very well to me.😄
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Linda,
I get aq kick out of writing it. Still increasing my vocabulary at age 67. I also struggle with the fact the blog was created to do Bible lessons, a ministry, not fiction. But I find that incorporating inspiration, encouragement, and hope in my fiction and posts seems okay, I hope. I sometimes feel I “sold out” for likes.
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