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Rated: E · Poetry · Cultural · #2199531
I now have a bathtub to enjoy.
It’s the bubble bath luxury I have today
where the soap and the suds come together to play.
Never having a bathtub to soak back and knee,
what is taken as right is to me luxury.

Basic bathtub in home is as common as air
but I lived in the sticks where possession was rare.
If the godliness cleansing was what one would seek,
then one had to go down and wash up in the creek.

(With the creek water cold it was more than a thrill
  and in off-summer months it would give me a chill.
  We made do with some soap made from animal fat,
  and took care in our skivvies wherever we sat.)

Yet as I now recline in this porcelain tub,
I sink under the water like I am a sub.
And I top off the fill with blast of the hot
giving thanks to good fortune for all that I’ve got.

I see bubbling mounds of increasing white soap
(and I wonder how I was once able to cope.)
I am affluent Abner in bubble bath awe
feeling muscles relax from my toes to my jaw.

An extravagance now is warm water and suds,
(and there’s also a washer, so I have clean duds!)
In my state of unwinding the bubble bath lives,
and I freely partake in the comfort it gives.

24 Lines
Writer’s Cramp 
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