Chore
Sunday 2 February 2025
poetry
A chore is a quiet kind of labour,
a task that asks for tidy hands and steady rhythm,
wiping the kettle, folding the socks,
sweeping the porch where autumn leaves collect.
It is not glamour, yet it holds its own grace—
the hum of the hoover, the splash of suds,
the satisfaction of a floor that gleams,
the order restored after a bustling day.
In the routine of chores we find a rhythm,
a meditative beat that steadies the mind,
turning the mundane into a modest ritual,
where each small effort adds to the home’s quiet song.