It's Friday morn in May

The weather set for fine

A perfect day for hanging

My washing on the line

 

Out at seven on the dot

A gleaming row of white.

A clear blue sky above   

Not a cloud in sight.

 

But then 'Oh No!' disaster struck

As I reached the kitchen door

I heard a noise behind me

My washing on the floor.

 

But rescue came from close at hand

My husband made things fine

By lifting all the clothes

Re-tied the broken line.

 

No damage done, the clothes still white

Gently blowing in the breeze

Early sun a rising

Through the garden trees.

 

But now it's lunch, the weather's broke

From skywards falling rain

I  picture soggy washing

Damn! I will have to start again.