It sits there, so inviting, a wide expansive space
Polished stone greets high rise chairs, nothing out of place
There is beauty in the expanse, simplicity, clean lines
A strategic, handpicked houseplant, readily aligns

Until one fateful morning, a carelessly misplaced
Tool of unknown origin appears, askew, displaced
Before long more have gathered, a blight upon the surface
No idea from whence they came, or if they serve a purpose

The tools commence the muster, but they’re only the beginning
Wrappers, screws, and nails, boxes full to brimming
Miscellaneous items, from pockets, bags and drawers
Sticky plates and cutlery, crumb strewn chopping boards

Littered, scattered, thrown, bright vista turned to night
Order turned to chaos, still the debris gathers height
Once a minimalist tribute, now a cluttered blight
Everything you’ll never need, hidden in plain sight

Only when the weight, elicits a mighty groan
Does decluttering commence, the lost return to home
Peace restored, calm descends, everything in its place
A welcoming and generous, blank canvas full of space

Until one day…
A wrench appears, that wasn’t there before
The next battle has commenced, in a never-ending war.

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I wrote this poem the other day for my husband on our fourteenth wedding anniversary.

It was inspired by our ongoing home renovation project, the chaos of which we’ve been living amidst for the past year.

We don’t make things easy for ourselves, and with the shortages of building materials during the pandemic, we did what we could when we could according to the materials we could get. 

This means our kitchen, normally the last thing we would have fitted, was one of the first, and my new kitchen island seems to attract all manner of things to its surface, which I have no idea what to do with.

Writing the poem, it also occurred to me that the flat surface is a metaphor for my mind. 

Periodically it will get very messy, prompting me to have a spring clean and let go of the things that aren’t serving me, but the clutter will always build up again.

Such is the nature of life.