It had been a long day,
washing, dusting,
polishing and toilet cleaning.

Then, she fell asleep on the sofa,
with a warm wintry sun
shining through the window.

The afternoon went swiftly,
and a chill, dark evening lay ahead
with the boring 'goggle box’.

More ironing to do and
the telephone was remarkably quiet,
as was the doorbell.

As she lifted the ironing board,
to set it up,
she leaned on it

clung to its shoulders,
danced and smooched with it
as if it were human,

somehow taking comfort
from the very pose
of lifting up her arms to its neck.

The ironing board, in response,
was suitably supportive
and out of respect

wore its very best cover,
like a dinner suit -
admirably decked.

Ruth Walters

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-decked-out/