Even though I like to dabble with a bit of craftiness I'm not particularly arty. Theatre does not have a big hold over me and I am completely turned off by literary criticism. So Mr Lovelygrey expressed surprise to find me listening to Radio 4's 'Poetry Please' whilst ironing (albeit my vastly reduced laundry pile given my new-ish creased is the new black policy) and expressed his concern that I was going 'all highbrow' on him. He was even more amazed that I was enjoying the programme which focused on the theme of home. The irony of listening to this poem whilst performing a task that is arguably pointless was not lost on me.
Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better,
to paint a picture or write a letter,
bake a cake or plant a seed,
ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
with rivers to swim and mountains to climb,
music to hear and books to read, friends to
cherish and life to lead.
Dust if you must, but the world's out there
With the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair,
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain.
This day will not come around again.
Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go - and go you must -
You, yourself, will make more dust! (Anon)