Our dishwasher went on strike, fed up with being taken for granted,

the penny dropped as we stared at the full up sullen machine,

white goods amongst others in a kitchen designed to please.

Our back up plan: taking out every plate and pan

cup and glass, immersing them into a sink with forensic thoroughness,

working as one, sharing the washing and wiping, an ebb and flow

immersion in hot suds, raising up the items

as bright as Excalibur triumphant, they made a stunning show. 


While the dance of hands went on we lightly conversed 

to pass the time about how our parents shared such a task

before the white revolution;  after the Sunday glut of roast 

the scarifying of the oven, dealing with fat and other unspeakable conditions. 

As a boy my job had been to get the coal, in, lift a metal hatch

in the bunker in all weathers, plunge the scuttle into the dark,

fill it up.  I knew my place then as now I suddenly do again. 




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Mon 5th Dec 2022 10:52

Hi Jennifer, hope you're well. A strange coincidence you posting on this, as the dishwasher was repaired and now some while later it's broken down again - this could be the moment for a re-assessment a la poeme ! Glad it made sense,I was happy to think of Excalibur.

Ray x

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jennifer Malden

Sun 4th Dec 2022 21:27

Enjoyed this one Ray! Only you could write a poem about washing up! As bright as Excalibur indeed! Actually once over it is a satisfaction, or perhaps just a relief? Why do the white goods always go wrong on Friday evening, when you have had friends to a meal?.

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Thu 24th Nov 2022 18:56

Hi Frederick. Thanks so much for joining in the fun, it seems to be quite a cherished pursuit after all. I agree with the consensus but my wife was very relieved when it gained control again!


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Red Brick Keshner

Thu 24th Nov 2022 10:55

Today is but a button press away and yet as aptly observed we have in each instance been put in our place, neither here and no longer there. We no longer dance the same way either, like the sudsy dance of hands 🙌🏻 🧼 finger scrolling and pinching 📱 🤏 and poking are quite an established thing. Working together as one and ow working as one alone. Good stuff here 👍🏻 🌷

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Sat 29th Oct 2022 21:34

Thanks for your lovely likes: Frederick, Tom, Holden, K..Lynn, Helene and Kamran. welcome to H and K .

A philosophical approach Graham. A dishwasher can be a bit of a pain with its restrictions and guidelines. We enjoyed the suds too this time round. I never put decent glasses in there, also hand turned mugs etc. blah blah! All in all, a therapeutic experience and we talked so there you are.

Russell, sounds like a special case, I bow to your needs of course.

Thanks Stephen, you've seen the truth of it as always. The last line a RP special.

That sounds better than a telly Greg. Add a soupcon of birdsong and a sly fox etc and I would swop (or is it swap) places. The dishwasher is by nature a bit furtive, even arty farty I reckon. I hope you're both settling in and getting logs in, etc.


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Greg Freeman

Thu 27th Oct 2022 22:38

Fine poem, Ray. It's not always progress. We have a dishwasher in our kitchen in Northumberland but the view of the garden from the kitchen sink is so wonderful, I don't think we'll ever use it.

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Stephen Gospage

Thu 27th Oct 2022 21:09

A marvellous poem about memories and the joy of everyday things, Ray. (Even a broken dishwasher!) The last line is great.

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Russell Jacklin

Wed 26th Oct 2022 15:39

I know the feeling my little dishwashing slave has grown old, so off to the knackers yard to be turned into something possibly useful, meanwhile nice people from John Lewis are delivering me a new one, my hands are much too delicate for soap suds so until it arrives we are eating out.😁

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Graham Sherwood

Wed 26th Oct 2022 15:31

Haha! I must be a one-ff Ray. I actually like washing up and often do our friends if we are invited to dinner or lunch.

I personally cannot abide good quality wine glasses being put into a dishwasher!!

The dictum in our house is, my wife makes the mess (known as my dinner) and I clear it up 😇

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