The Clean House

Through yonder window

I do peek

while head bends

to the floor.

If only, 

if only the floor

were clean

then I could go outdoors

but no

I labour and 

scrub below

the view of grass still green.

bright promises glint

reflecting day's descent

left darkened on

knees of nevermore.

breezes blow

past brushes path

small mercies

on a cheek so keen.

Aye, by lantern light

rest will come to alight 

on  thine house that sparkles bright

and a woman laid to bed, goodnight!

*

This is my take on the Magpie prompt this week. I have been cleaning in preparation for visitors this weekend, so envisioned myself on the floor scrubbing, looking up longingly at the tease of the outside world. Life kind of looked like that today.