Poetry Monday

Today's poetic offering was written by someone close to me. Me.

I have written two poems in my life. Both were written for contests. The first poem I wrote was written when I was in 10th grade for a contest for an ad for Spam I saw in Seventeen magazine. Maybe someday I will share that one, today is not that day. And, sadly, that poem didn't even get me an honorable mention let alone the $100 wardrobe that was to be awarded the first place winner.

The poem I have chosen for today was written for a contest WCCO radio had in conjunction with the "Small Business Show" at the Minneapolis Convention Center in the late 80's. Mr. D called me from work to tell me about it (perhaps, if I can find it, I will share his award winning poem on a future Monday...he came in second and won a calculator).

But, now, back to me. I have received two awards in my life, not counting the blue ribbon that my cousin Dianne gave me for being an "Outstanding" cousin. (She felt sorry for me when we were discussing the hundreds of blue ribbons she has for her award winning Hampshire sheep, so came up for a visit with an "Outstanding Cousin" blue ribbon a few years back.) I also am the proud winner of the 1972 Minnesota State High School Press Association copy writing award from an entry I wrote in the St. Louis Park High School year book. But that was only second place. The only first place I have ever received is for the poem you are about to read.

It was read on WCCO radio by Tim Russell and I received a fax machine for my effort (which WCCO valued at $1500 for tax purposes, so that meant we had to declare it as extra income and my winning ended up costing us about $500, but I digress).

And, so, without further ado, I introduce to you my award winning poem, The Forgotten Small Business.

The Forgotten Small Business
by Linda Dugan

I'm just a housewife,
Like the old saying goes.
I stay home with children,
I iron their clothes.

I clean and I cook,
I launder, I fold.
And yet people say,
No real job do I hold.

I read to my children,
We play games and such,
No wonder they say that
My job's not worth much.

Without a career,
They look down upon me,
My life has no purpose,
They say so profoundly.

I am the mother,
Who's home all day long.
My number they know,
If something goes wrong

And they need someone quick
To watch little Lizzy,
"I'll call the housewife,
I know she's not busy."

During the evening,
After I "cooks",
I sit down with the ledger,
And I do the books

For my husband's small business,
That isn't so small,
I add up the numbers,
And balance them all.

My friends who have real jobs,
Think all that I do,
Is shop and do lunch and
Watch soap operas, too.

You don't really work,
You're lucky they say,
How nice it would be
To stay home and play.

I guess I don't work much,
I'll never be fired,
But I can't figure out
Why I'm always so tired.