The drone of the drill


I sit here in my bedroom trying
hard to write

But down the tiled passage I hear
my grandsons fight

Then that becomes all noised out
with the humming of a drill

They’re fixing up my house now and
that is quite a thrill.


The girls are sharing quarters,
tiny squashed and hot

They’re fixing up their bedrooms to
a more delightful spot

The pool is fixed and glassed now,
the patio is paved

Its looking just the way that  I have always craved


But the house is cluttered up with
boxes of our stuff

I sweep and wipe and clean up all
the nasty dust

So writing down a story or putting
down a poem

Is something of  a challenge while they recreate my home.


But soon it will be over and my
house will be a place

Where I can put down words at a
more creative pace

I cannot wait to sit on my
sheltered patio

And let amazing stories from my
pencil flow.

By Helen Fenwick

March 2008


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