My Wash Day Poem by Patricia Denise Newman

I've hung my washing on the line
left to dry with the day so fine
overhead the sky was blue
the sun shone out as if on cue

And then some grey clouds came along
The gentle breeze grew much more strong
I watched my washing swinging round
as if chased by some wicked hound

The clouds grew darker, on they came
I watched in case they brought the rain
but then those clouds just passed on by
my wash was safe and left to dry.