WASHING=UP
Have yoii ever yet discovered how exciting it can be, When you’re washing up the dishes in the kitchen after tea. While to sink and soapy water busy fingers are confined, To liberate the phantom of the everflitting mind?
It may travel like a swallow, from the willow pattern plate, To a lotus lake in China, near an old vertmilion gate. Or settle on the butter dish, to drowse awhile and dream Of apple trees in Devonshire and strawberries and cream.
In the scintillating colours of a gay Venetian glass It sees the water ripple from gondolas that pass, While a tiny graven image on a beaten silver spoon, Sets the wooden drums a-droning in temples of Rangoon.
After creeping through the shadow of the big potato pot, Where the leprechaun was lurking with his crock, as like as not, It rests at last to ponder on that mystery of life, The madly-whirling atoms in the handle of a knife.
—May Courtney.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAITA19381214.2.115.30
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Wairarapa Times-Age, 14 December 1938, Page 23 (Supplement)
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163WASHING=UP Wairarapa Times-Age, 14 December 1938, Page 23 (Supplement)
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