MONDAY IS WASHING DAY. 

My kitchen is full of sunshine 

The soap suds bubble and spin, 

My arms plunge deep in rainbows 

As collars and shirts go in. 

There's health coming out of my wash~tub, 

There's danger swirling away. 

I peg my love to the clothes-line 

With the sweet, clean clothes to-day. 

TUESDAY IS IRONING DAY 

Some cal. it drudgery, 

I call it fun

 Making my iron 

so smoothly run. 

Crisp, clean collars, 

Shirt-fronts trim, 

Whisper to everyone 

I'm proud of him. 

See how my pretty things

Frill daintily? 

Someone is going to be 

Prouder of me!

WEDNESDAY IS CLEANING DAY 

My floor is like a mirror, 

My windows diamond bright, 

The polish on the table-top

Gives back the sun's clear light. 

I've set upon the mantle-shelf 

Tall heads of lupin blue. 

Please, Love, fly in at my window, 

My room is cleaned for You. 

THURSDAY IS ODD-JOB_ DAY

Now isn’t it funny that men never guess 

There has to be one day for clearing up mess? 

For polishing silver, and darning the socks, 

For straightening drawers, and oiling the locks, 

For the tap that leaks, and the rug that's torn, A

nd the little touch-up where the paint is worn; 

For all the small details that they never guess 

But which make it home for them, nevertheless. 

FRIDAY IS BAKING DAY. 

"A quarter of flour and two ounces of lard, 

Rub it in lightly' - - that doesn't sound hard! 

Propped up beside me to help as I cook 

Is Grandmother's home-written recipe book. 

Secrets she knew of cake and of tart 

That found out the way to Grandfather's heart, 

And I know of Someone belonging to me 

Who loves to have ‘Grandmother's Cake' for his tea!

SATURDAY IS LOVERS' DAY. 

Lock up the windows, 

Put out the fires, 

Polish our bicycles, 

Pump up the tyres! 

Pack up the sandwiches, 

Tie them on tight! 

Goodbye to house and work 

Until to-night. 

Fields in the sunlight 

Call us to-day. U

Once more we're sweethearts -- 

It's Saturday! 

As Published in Womans Weekly 06Aug1936

My kitchen is full of sunshine 

The soapsuds bubble and spin 

My arms plunge deep in rainbows 

As collars and shirts go in. 

There's health coming out of my wash-tub, 

There's danger whirling away, 

I peg my love to the clothes-line 

With the sweet clean clothes to-day. 

Some call it drudgery

I call it fun 

Making my iron 

So smoothly run. 

Crisp clean collars 

Shirt-fronts trim 

Whisper to everyone

 I'm proud of “im' 

See how my pretty things 

Frill daintily - 

Someone is going to be

  Prouder of me. 

My floor is like a mirror 

My windows diamond bright 

The polish on the tabletop 

Gives back the sun's clear light. 

I've set upon the mantle shelf 

Tall heads of lupin blue 

Please, Love, fly in at my window 

My room is cleaned for yous 

He will not notice that the darn is neat 

But only know he walks with happy feet. 

He will not guess the patient hours I spent 

But only see his coat no longer rent. 

Yet sometimes just a wish slips through my mind

 That those dear eyes should one day not be blind

Then just once he should see  and whisper low: 

‘My Little wife, how beautifully you sew" 

A quarter of flour and two ounces of lard 

Rub it in lightly - that doesn't sound hard 

Floury hand’s pause in their work for a look

At Grandmother's home written recipe book. 

Then hands and head turn again to the making

Soon cakes and tarts will be steadily baking

A quarter of flour and two ounces of lard, 

Rub it in lightly' - - that doesn't sound hard! 

Propped up beside me to help as I cook 

Is Grandmother's home-written recipe book. 

Secrets she knew of cake and of tart 

That found out the way to Grandfather's heart, 

And I know of Someone belonging to me 

Who loves to have ‘Grandmother's Cake' for his tea!

Lock up the window, 

Put out the fire 

Polish our bicycles 

Pump up the tyres, 

Pack up the sandwiches

  Tie them on tight 

Goodbye to house and work

Until to-night 

Fields in the sunlight 

Call us to-day 

We can be sweethearts -- 

Remember It's Saturday’