Ballade of Bleached Blemishes

This summer I have joined with some inspiring and fascinating ladies for #wholemama. Every week I look forward to Lindsey Smallwood’s poetic skills, so this week I thought I would join her by dusting off my rhyming repertoire. It has been awhile since I accessed the classic form part of my brain, so I opted for a ballade with a twist.

Ballade of Bleached Blemishes

I cannot face it. I will not look. Let it be.
I will not take the bait or tease the hook. The stress,
it mounts thinly—layer by layer—I will flee.
No, I will fight. I fold the shirt. I hang the dress.
My swallowed room, my bed, I stand to repossess.
I make stack after stack out of the disarray.
Sorting away the mending and the stained. The mess,
it stalks like a predator coming for its prey.

It piles up, slowly builds; crags and peaks I see.
I push it aside, close the door to convalesce.
The ebb and flow of forsaken fabric debris
sucks me in and pulls me under. Nevertheless,
I take action.  This constant strain I must address.
It is proof we live, and have dear offspring at play.
The grime is washed away the fun can stay. The mess,
it stalks like a predator coming for its prey.

Chores will always be, but from dread I can be free.
The issue is not pants and matchless socks.  What? Yes
the real disorder reigns painfully within me.
Tinges of depravity venture to possess.
Striking at identity, tempting to transgress.
But Christ I see, paid the price that was mine to pay.
Meeting in the scandal of grace, He wiped the mess.
No longer stalked by a predator as weak prey.

Conquered cliffs of clothes won’t justify. I confess
fabric softened lies have provoked my peace to fray.
A redemptive act, this purgation of the mess.
When the predator comes round, I begin to pray.



Our writing inspiration at #wholemama this week was mess. If you need some encouragement for these days when the sun burns hot, come link up.



4 thoughts on “Ballade of Bleached Blemishes

  1. Chara, I’m so glad you dusted off your poetic skills. This is great and I loved reading it. Your progression from mess like a predator stalking its prey, to no longer being stalked, to learning to pray when the predator comes.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is so cool, and I agree with Gayl on the predator analogy…it definitely feels at times as if we are being stalked but our messes. Funny, I almost took a pic of the socks piled on our dresser for Instagram. :\


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