When I was in the middle of all the work I had to accomplish around the house, I saw postings in several blogs on the marvelous wordles from http://sundaywhirl.blogspot.com/. At that time, the words were: eke, chimney, textured, bridge, rural, brandishing, stop, slurping, salty, substituted, infusion and filtered.
I’ve kind of made my brag that I find wordles easy, and that darn wordle kept pestering me while I was working around the house. Even though it’s more than a week late, I finally found the time to sit down and let them write a poem. I have to admit, this wordle was tougher than I thought it would be.
by Mike Patrick
An honest man’s commitment
to the mother of his child,
ended a life of playing;
a life running wild.
With no skill set there to market,
eking out a living’s hard,
when all one had was two good hands
and a name of some regard.
From a tiny rural farmhouse,
two miles outside of town,
he became a chimney sweep
and passed the word around.
Each day he crossed the city bridge
to the cobblestone textured lanes,
brandishing his brushes high;
tattooed with soot stains.
The years, they took an awful toll,
through the process of his life.
His son grew up and moved away;
still he adored his ailing wife.
For her he climbs the ladder rungs;
fatigue an anchor for each step.
Through soot-scarred and blackened lungs
He gasps through every chimney swept.
He chokes upon unfiltered air,
as house to house he’ll troop.
The stop for lunch, his only break;
he slurps his tea and salty soup.
The infusion of his woman’s love
powered the changing of his ways.
No substitution has he found for her
to get him through his days.