Skip to main content

This is my five minute friday post, its a poem I wrote about the messy beauty of an ordinary house.

Beautiful Mess

Welcome to our house.
Open up the door
There are muddy bootprints scattered on the floor
That's because three puddle jumpers just walked in
Too excited to take off their shoes...
"Mama, mama are socks are soaked through!"

This house, this house...yes its our house
It's a beautiful mess...

Come sit on the couch
Pardon those crumbs, and please overlook the stickers
A cookie and a book were just enjoyed by baby sister

This house, this house...yes its our house...
It's a beautiful mess...

Pull up a chair at our table
Mom is cooking dinner and soon we will be able
To eat fresh bread and gulp sweet lemonade
But first we must clean off the paper, crayons, and paint...
Our art projects are drying and there is no place for plates!

This house, this house...yes its our house....
It's a beautiful mess....

Follow us to the back door and gaze outside
Look past the nose smudges and fingerprinted glass
Little faces have been pressed into silly smiles
Hands tracing pictures and letters in frosty font style

This house, this house....yes its our house...
It's a beautiful mess...

Come into the playroom and stay awhile
There may be legos confetti and a doll clothes explosion...
Boys have been building race cars and space stations
Little girls spent hours arranging just the right dress for each occasion

This house, this house...yes its our house...
Its a beautiful mess....

Come into the bathroom the day is almost done
Sudsy lavender bubbles signal night has come
Sailboats swirl as the last puddles swim down the drain...
Water pooling in splatters around clean shriveled feet
Towels lying damp, creating soggy heaps

This house, this house...yes its our house...
Its a beautiful mess...

Follow to the bedroom, sweet dream time has arrived
Dolls, toys, and books scooped off the floor and put back in their places
Warm soft blankets pulled back and pillows fluffed for sweet faces
Lamplight flickers off and moon beams shine through window panes
Sit on the bed, tell the familiar stories, offer kisses, and speak His Name

This house, this house...yes its our house...
It's a beautiful mess....


  1. this is fabulous! sounds like a fun and exciting mess - just the place i'd LOVE to be! enjoyed your poem.

  2. Love this! With a seventh month old little this is quickly becoming my life. A giant beautiful mess!

  3. I think you described my house...a few years ago. My girls are older, but our house is still full of life and stuff. The mess is no longer toys and finger prints but athletic equipment, hair stuff, etc. I enjoyed this poem.

  4. Just love this glimpse into everyday life! Kudos for writing a poem, I always wished that was a talent of mine!

  5. I love this peek into your beautiful ordinary...thank you for sharing! :)


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

31 Days of Free Writes #Wave

Four summers ago the first weekend in September marked one month.  One month lived out shaky and unsteady.  Just putting a few steps in front of the other and letting tears drip down faces or anger spill out at the sky.  "Why?"
I had watched my husband shake violently at the graveside of his twenty-six year old brother as he sat a few inches from the casket.
My usually stoic husband reached out for the casket as he passed by and I heard his voice crack as he called out his name.  One more time. I had never seen him stricken with grief.  That groan of emotion haunted me.   Those fifteen minutes spent under the funeral home's green awning the last minutes his family would ever be within arms length of this special brother.  A brother who had just slipped quietly out of this life beneath the green gold water of a river one steaming August day.  Bare chested and tan, jumping off the dock with friends.  Never to resurface again.
A lot of that week in August was just wakin…

Five Minute Fridays - "Last"

Last is such a final word, it’s a word that always makes us sit back and take note. We take note of the fact that something is about to draw to an end and we better enjoy the last drops, savor the last bites before its all gone. Like that last hot week of summer that we spend soaking up every last beam of Vitamin D. Or that last couple bites of a once a year Christmas dinner, slowly swallowed down. Or maybe the last night of a vacation where we try to take note of everything and know that we are returning to real world, real bills, real deadlines all seemingly too soon. Two weeks ago I experienced a last. For seven months I was given a gift. It was truly an unexpected gift. One I had never anticipated being given. For the past six years my sister Faith and I have lived in different cities for most of the time. We always mused over the idea that we should've lived together for at least one year of college. But from icy January 4th to steamy August 10th I had the gift…


Five Minute Fridays

Morning seems sacred to me.  Having nocturnal children kind of robs me of the mornings I like to enjoy in silence and quiet thought.
For years I would get up at least two hours before anyone so I could just be by myself and be quiet.
My parents are early morning people that like to eat full breakfasts and watch the sunrise on the porch. There's something exciting about watching the day open its' eye lids with the first glints of sun playing on the horizon edge.  Pale blues and periwinkles rouse us out of pitch black and many times morning rises in strength with extravagant colors.  It signals something new.  A new twenty four hours.  A new chance. Kind of like a new little slice of life.  We are mesmerized at first at the idea of new.  It's beautiful, holy, and hopeful.
Morning breaks the night.
I love that Cat Steven's hymn Morning has Broken.  I've always thought the words were so beautiful.
Especially the last phrase, "God&…