Ironing on a Wet Tuesday

My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Empire of Scents

This Tuesday Grace has set us the challenge of writing a poem about scents.

 

It’s a wet Tuesday,

Rain spits at the closed window

And I’m listening to the radio,

Following in grandmother’s footsteps.

The iron steams.

Clothes, rescued from the line

Are scented with raindrops,

Creased and pleading

To be smooth.

I press fabric between iron and board,

Breathe in a warm memory

And slip down the years

To the lily of the valley embrace

Of the woman

Who taught me

How to iron away

A rainy day.

 

© Kim M. Russell, 2016

Ironing on a Wet Tuesday

Image found on www.ssplprints.com

 

 

48 thoughts on “Ironing on a Wet Tuesday”

  1. This is lovely. What a sweet tender memory this scent and activity is. Our grandmothers always seemed to have those wonderful scents about them – lily of the valley, talcum powder, Ivory soap, rose. Great poem.

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  3. Oh, I have been in that room. Another part of the globe to be sure, but rain-soaked laundry and a steam iron — they smell the same, or near enough.

    “I press fabric between iron and board,
    Breathe in a warm memory
    And slip down the years
    To the lily of the valley embrace
    Of the woman
    Who taught me
    How to iron away
    A rainy day.”

    The sounds and sculpting of these lines have that soft, warm, embrace implicit in them. Spot on!

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  5. Creased and pleading – Love this line! I can smell the ironing and hear how my mom used elbow grease to ship those shirts into shape! You have evoked clear, crisp memories! Well done 🙂

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  9. There’s something about the smell of a hot iron on dampened clothes isn’t there, I remember my mother ironing everything after she sprinkled the garment with water….lovely Kim…

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  10. “As I read this, my husband was ironing in our living-room. Gives me wonderful memories of watching my father iron his shirts. There is that special linen/cotton, steam and heat smell that always brings to mind what seemed a simpler time,” she said.

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      1. “Aren’t they fun when they happen,” she replied. “It was much later than he usually irons!” “And PS I do the wash, and let him iron his clothes — I never iron mine because I iron IN the wrinkles,” she :)’d.

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  11. What a loving memory, and something so meaningful in that ‘lily of the valley embrace’—there’s something about someone who is constant, consistent, stable and dependable like that 🙂

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    1. Everyone I know laughs at me because I iron everything, including towels and socks, but that was the way I was taught. It also gives me a feeling of satisfaction and I listen to BBC Radio 4 while ironing, usually a play or a story and quite often Poetry Please, so I have to iron everything in the time it takes to listen to a programme or two!

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  19. My mom had one of those large steam irons, and I remember the smell so vividly. You described it well with the warmth. Very nostalgic for me, reading this.

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  20. I really love this. It’s beautiful when a simple task like ironing can hold so much love, admiration and fond memories. I could smell the scent of raindrops!

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