Piling up and uP and UP!

My mother keeps her house immaculately clean.  There is not a speck of dust on her shelves, not a sticky spot on her counters, not a smidge of dirt on her floors.  She does, however, have a few piles sitting around.  She has always had piles of papers on her counter, neat and tidy little piles, but piles just the same.  I did not inherit my mother’s neatness.  I am no where near the house keeper she is.  I take after her in only one way when it comes to our homes.  I, too, have piles around.  Mine are not as neat or tidy but, they are piles just the same.  This little poem is inspired by both my mother and myself, but ....mostly myself….

    I look around me and all I see are piles, piles, piles,
    Piles on the counters, piles on the floor,
    Piles on the table and piles by the door.

    Piles in the bedrooms, piles by the phone,   
    Piles of stuff to donate and piles of stuff to loan.
   
    Piles of junk mail, piles of books,
    Piles from lunch, of the stuff that we cooks.

    Piles of papers, piles of clothes,
    Piles of schoolwork, piles of woes.

    I can’t keep them neat, not even by force.
    I just can’t escape the obvious source.
   
    A home full of living, a house full of kids,
    Stuff just piles up, we’re flipping our lids…

    ‘Cause the piles keep growing, they never get less
    But life is still good though the house is a mess.

    The stuff is inevitable, and it just seems to pile,
    But our family is happy so I just have to smile!