Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Polly wakes to a new day in the bed in the attic she shares with Susie the other maid it is still dark but birds are singing and traffic is heard in the distance breaking the night's stillness and quiet she rises from bed and sits on the edge and looks back at Susie and sighs the maid looks sad in her sleep mouth half open eyes sealed shut head to one side one hand on top the other tucked away out of sight poor ****** Polly mutters and gets off the bed and goes to the enamel bowl and fills it from the jug with cold water and takes off her nightdress and begins to wash in the cold water and a piece of red soap and washes her face and neck and arms and splashes water under her arms and taps at her ******* then taking an old towel from the side she dries herself as quick as she can before the cold morning air freezes her stiff then looking at Susie she pulls out the chamber *** and sits and unloads and sighs and closes her eyes and wishes Master George had not gone away but was there in his room so that she could have slept there and not sitting here in her room feeling the encroaching day's gloom.
0
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 4:05 AM UTC
DAY'S GLOOM 1916.
Polly wakes to a new day in the bed in the attic she shares with Susie the other maid it is still dark but birds are singing and traffic is heard in the distance breaking the night's stillness and quiet she rises from bed and sits on the edge and looks back at Susie and sighs the maid looks sad in her sleep mouth half open eyes sealed shut head to one side one hand on top the other tucked away out of sight poor ****** Polly mutters and gets off the bed and goes to the enamel bowl and fills it from the jug with cold water and takes off her nightdress and begins to wash in the cold water and a piece of red soap and washes her face and neck and arms and splashes water under her arms and taps at her ******* then taking an old towel from the side she dries herself as quick as she can before the cold morning air freezes her stiff then looking at Susie she pulls out the chamber *** and sits and unloads and sighs and closes her eyes and wishes Master George had not gone away but was there in his room so that she could have slept there and not sitting here in her room feeling the encroaching day's gloom.
A HOUSE MAID RISES UP ONE COLD MORNING IN 1916.
TerryCollett
Written by
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 4:05 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem