Frustration is

awakening at four

with two hours of

fighting with blankets.

The top fuzzy one was

cosy at bedtime

Now, it sucks warmth from

“him”

and distributes it

to  “her”

Luckily there are two blankets

I fling mine on the floor

But now I am cold

The bed is big enough

for two

But when the wife (me)

awakens at four

it’s not nearly big enough

for one.

Bundling up, I

stumble into the kitchen

The dishes in the sink give me

dirty looks

A late evening meal

following the ballgame

I skipped the clean-up process

Gulping coffee,  caffiene flowing

through my veins

I speed-wash, rinse dishes

Husband’s up and he’s

cheerfull.

I snarl

and crawl

back into bed.

Happiness is

waking up warm and cosy

to a clean kitchen

Husband’s sleeping

Maybe I will write a silly poem

about the everyday life

of an elderly wife

of an elderly

man