The Nameless Mood Of A Home-Maker

There is no word I know,
No analogy that will show
Or capture or condense
That peculiar sense
I feel when I switch on the day
And I remember to replay
The dregs of memoranda,
The unfinished agenda
Of pots to scrape and plates that must
Be rinsed and washed and saved from dust.

It is a nameless mood
Of word-lorn solitude.
No one can tell me how
To switch off the ever-present Now
And aspire to stitch
Unwritten phrases, which
Enable me to say
What I feel this very day.

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25 October,2014

by Ananta Madhavan

Comments (2)

Even I feel this should have been written by a woman....I agree it's a nameless solitary mood but loaded with great responsibility to be carried on for the routine purpose of the day....interesting write- 10
This poem should have been written by a woman! What you have described here is the mood of a woman and often she experiences this! When she aspires to stitch unwritten phrases, the dregs of unfinished works of pots to scrape and plates to be rinsed intervene! Enjoyed this intersting write!