Despite my plans to doze off soon, like right at sev’n-o-two,
My child’ren say they’re much too wired, they say that they aren’t tired –
And so, those monkeys go ahead, while I daydream of bed;
They fin’lly snooze as daytime breaks. I rest my head…
And it’s awake.
©2020 Chel Owens
A ball, a sock, a crawl, a walk
‘Twixt cupboard wares and open stairs
The baby’s on the move.
A lid, a crumb, once-diapered bum
Beneath the chairs; where’er he dares
The baby’s on the move.
A scarf, a boot, a laugh, a scoot
From houseplant fares to mother’s hairs
Why taught we him to move?
©2020 Chel Owens
Why do I write
When it is night
When there’s no light
With kids, a-fright
With bedtime fights
Without a knight
To see my plight
‘Cause he’s out-right
His eyes shut tight
While I still write
©2020 Chel Owens
There once was a mother of five;
Her sleep, she described as ‘deprived.’
She ne’er saw day’s shift
-The sun was too swift,
As were those troublesome Five.
©2020 Chelsea Owens
Photo by Piron Guillaume on Unsplash
Yelling yelling scream
Screaming screaming screaming ouch
Tattle tattle cry
©2020 Chelsea Owens
Photo Credit: Allen Taylor
I Didn't Want to Be a Mother 