Leonie Dobbins' questions the need to clean on our Literary Page

Excerpt from "Letter from Leonie":
  As I am writing this, I suddenly remember a poem my sister sent me years ago.  I latched on to that idea right away!  I know I said I wasn’t going to give you too many poems to read, but I love poetry, so indulge me and enjoy this one.

 Love,  Leonie

Here is what my sister sent:                  

                                                            Dusting

                    “A house becomes a home when you can write ”I love you” on the furniture.”  I can’t tell you how many countless hours I have spent CLEANING!  I used to spend at least 8 hours every weekend, making sure things were just perfect --- “in case someone came over”

          Then I realized one day that no-one came over; they were all out living life and having fun!

          Now, when people visit, I find no need to explain the “condition” of my home.  They are more interested in hearing about the things I’ve been doing while I was away living life and having fun.  If you haven’t figured this out yet, please heed this advice:

                                                            Life is short! Enjoy it!

                              Dust if you must, but wouldn’t it be better

                              to paint a picture or write a letter,

                              bake a cake or plant a seed,

                              ponder the difference between want and need?

                              Dust if you must, but there’s not much time

                              with rivers to swim and mountains to climb,

                              music to hear and books to read,

                              friends to cherish

                              and life to lead.

                              Dust if you must, but the world’s out there

                              with the sun in your eyes,

                              the wind in your hair, a flutter of snow,

                              a shower of rain.  This day

                              will not come around again.

                              Dust if you must, but bear in mind,

                              old age will come and it’s not kind.

                              And when you go and go you must
                              You, yourself,  will make more dust!

“It’s not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived.”