This Poet Took An Iron... Poem by Linda Hepner

This poet took an iron
that she had never used,
and set about to iron,
sufficiently enthused.

There was a pile of linen
she’d washed and set aside;
she’d felt she might be sinnin’
if she tried more to hide

it from her own attention,
yet left it for her maid
while causing delay-tension
since she was quite afraid

of picking up an iron
and finishing a chore;
she’d scarcely learned to iron –
her housekeeping was poor.

She first drove down to Target
And bought a brand new board,
(An enterprising market
Where stuff you need is stored) .

She purchased bras, some mastic,
A rolling pin, a flask,
and still enthusiastic
she tackled her first task:

his fünf und zwanzig Taschen-
tucher, all white squares,
and sang the song, I’m dashin’
with Thursday mornin’ flair.

If you don’t know the ditty,
it starts on Monday, when
the lover spies his pretty,
immortalized by pen:

‘Twas on a Monday morning,
When I beheld my darling,
She looked so sweet and charming
In every high degree,
She looked so neat and nimble-o
A washing of her linen-0
Dashing away with the smoothing iron,
Dashing away with the smoothing iron
Dashing away with the smoothing iron
She stole my heart away!

On Tuesday she hangs up her sheets
and starches the next day,
then Thursday she irons out the pleats -
to creases she says, Nay!

But Sunday and throughout the week
make Cupid draw his bow -
it’s not the blushing of her cheek
but is the healthy glow

of ironing with great panache,
a ballet, battle, dance,
her weapon-wielding dash and flash,
get Cupid at first glance!


Now ladies if you’re eyein’
some plot to trap your beau,
don’t prim or preen, go iron
and dash it, gal, just GO!

LRH
7.15.2009
Iron shape hundreds of years old.
How to do it: all the generations of women who knew
I am part of the amazing living line of women
Do it with love, shirts
Satisfaction
Impatience finally – I run off mid-shirt to write this poem