The Cure for Spare Time

A good buddy of mine on Facebook who is a poet recently posted a challenge to write a poem titled “The Cure for Spare Time.”

I don’t claim to be a poet, or to even know anything about poetry, but it sounded like fun, so I decided to try my hand at it. I actually had a lot of fun working on it, coming up with the rhythms and rhymes, and making it all fit. It’s very different trying to create a word-picture of what I was thinking without it being boring, and all the other things that we as writers do when we write prose, but fitting it all into the format of a poem.

I’m sure there are plenty of poets out there who can tell me all the things I did wrong, and all the ways it could be better, but I had a good time working it out and challenging my brain to do something a little different from what I normally do.

So, without further ado, I give you…  

The Cure for Spare Time

Laundry sits on the floor

Waiting to be folded

Leftovers in the fridge

Soon they will be molded

On the floor a death trap

Made of doll and lego

No time to pick it up

It’s off to school we go

Time to drag a toddler

Up and down the aisle

Praying that this one time

She won’t act like “that child”

Pass up a sale on shoes

The kids need food instead

Finally back home now

But I forgot the bread

Need to feed the baby

It’s already past time

Maybe if I’m lucky

A nap is next in line

Finally a minute

To stop and breathe some air

No time to do much else

Except to brush my hair

Off to get the boys now

From a day of learning

Tried to take a shortcut

Shouldn’t have tried turning

And I’m late once again

An all-too-common thing

Not much time at the park

So the kids can swing

Homework, chores, family time

Before we’re off again

A doctor and a dentist

To bring us all some pain

Dinner all together

Was once a special treat

Now the kids are lucky

They even get to eat

Brushing teeth, jammies on

The house is still a sight

But finally it’s quiet

The rest ain’t worth a fight

Hubby plants some kisses,

A smack upon my butt

That used to lead to something

I don’t remember what

Pooped, I fall into bed

Thinking of a friend

Said she had time to spare

With me she’d like to spend

Why can’t I take a break

To do something with her?

Better use of my time

Would make it work, she’s sure

She can, and so can I,

So she often bids

I just smile to myself

She ain’t got no kids.

About Avily Jerome

Avily Jerome is a writer and the editor of Havok Magazine. Her short stories have been published in various magazines, both print and digital. She has judged several writing contests and is a writing conference teacher and presenter. She writes speculative fiction, her ideas ranging from almost-real-world action/adventures to epic fantasies to supernatural thrillers.

8 comments on “The Cure for Spare Time

  1. You did very well for “not being a poet.’ Made me laugh!

  2. What fun! I remember those days.

  3. I remember this poem. It’s not been all that long ago that it dance inside my head. Hugs, Avily.

  4. fabulous!! 😀

  5. Hilarious! Great job! I’m no expert on poetry my own self, but as far as I’m concerned you did your job and that’s what’s important! 😀

  6. Good job, Avily! And it all so true :P.

  7. I love it!! It’s a great poem {and I was an English major for a time….got an awful lot of credits for writing classes!} and so, so true! A+!!

  8. Great job Avily! Of course you left out Castle Age (hee hee) –this sounds very similar to what my lovely wife (mother of 3) tells me is a typical day, looking forward to reading more of your work! 3:)

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