3 result(s) for Reminders To Wash Pots And Pans After Use.
These poems are completely original - not copied from anywhere. Feel free to use them however you want.
The Greasy Pan's Lament
Abandoned in the sink,
the skillet waits in grease,
its sheen of last night's supper
clinging like a fleece.
I promised, oh I promised,
to rinse you while still warm,
but sleep and tired feet
escorted me from form.
Now soap must work much harder,
the scrubber bristles stiff,
and every hour you linger
makes the cleaning more of a biff.
So here's a little reminder,
written on the tap:
wash the pots before the morning,
and the pans will never sap.
Yesterday's Stew
The morning coffee wakes my tongue,
but something stale is hiding there,
a ghost of supper, thick and warm,
clinging to the cup's bare air.
The pot still sits upon the stove,
its bottom crusted, black and deep,
a sticky note I didn't write,
that tells me I should wash and keep.
So here's the rule I'll write in ink,
for every spoon and skillet too:
scrub the pan before you rest,
or breakfast tastes of what you stew.
The Accusing Stack
Last night's supper left its mark,
A greasy ring, a crusted spark.
The skillet waits with patient scorn,
Its handle turned, its sides forlorn.
The saucepan sulks beneath the tap,
A tower built from every scrap.
Each dish a finger, pointing square,
At me, the one who would not care.
So I will rise, and lift the lid,
And scrub until the metal's hid
No trace of what I left behind,
No silent judgment, cold and blind.
Next time, I'll rinse before I sleep,
And let the pans their promise keep.
For clean is kinder than the stack,
And peace is found when dishes wrack... rack.
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