Category: Home Life

The soap is at the lavatory
If I’m in the tub;
When I ‘m at the lavatory
The soap’s not. There’s the rub,
It seems to me our swear-and-wrath-room
Would be best as a two-cake bathroom…

by Ray Romine Thursday, April 6, 1950

The Devil will cock his ear, and lunge
To the cupboard where he keeps his sponge,
So he can throw it up, and yell,
“STOP! This place is beginning to SOUND like Hell!”

by Ray Romine Saturday, October 30, 1943

We worked the attic through today,
Past ballgoves, lampshades, books and vases.
We couldn’t throw a thing away–
But left the dust in different places.

by Ray Romine Saturday, August 19, 1950

My good wife opined that a white picket fence
Would dress us up sharp as a splinter.
It’s pretty; it’s white–with canny insight
We brought it inside for the winter.

by Ray Romine Friday, January 19, 1951

I’ve friends who love our frigid clime,
And who are over-bold
In poking fun with prose and rhyme
At us who mind the cold.

For winter’s my pet peeve. Alas,
I’m that benighted soul
Who doesn’t heat with oil or gas,
But who still shovels coal.

by Ray Romine Monday, August 21, 1950

Come on out and sit in our deck chair;
It is cooler by far in the shade.
We will sip at our Cokes
And rehash ancient jokes
And forget about barter and trade.

Come park the tired frame in our deck chair;
Relax and refresh till you burst.
There is just this one catch
(You’re expecting it, natch):
It’s your job to set it up firstl

by Ray Romine Tuesday, June 9, 1953

Where is the father, who, minutes ago,
Lectured on light bills to his sons and daughters?
Hobbying basement-wise, wouldn’t you know?– Under six light bulbs–all two-hundred watt-ers!

by Ray Romine Monday, January 22, 1951

The bathroom hue out-blues the sky;
The hall if somewhat fainter.
I am no hobbiest, but I
Am still a Sunday painter!

by Ray Romine Monday, February 8, 1954

Invent an excuse to get out of the house;
Take heed or be sorry, old man,
For Flo is intent on a “fix-over” bent–
Best flee while you’re able and can.

Run or fly or swim, my dear fellow:
She’s doing the dining-room over in yellow!

She’s ogling the living room suite with that look–
With that slip-cover gleam in her eye;
It’s the gander that nets her the things that it gets her:
The prudent-type husband would fly!

You’d best flee the country–don’t come back at all:
For Flo is transforming the back bed-room hall.
“Just think what we’ll save if we do it ourselves”–
(Excluding, of course, your religion,
And the swear and the tear on your nails and your hair)–
It’s desert, or wake up a dead pigeon!!

I’ve warned you and warnea you, so, fellow, take heed .
A devil in need is a devil indeed!

You may not be skilful with needle ana thread,
With paint-brush, or hammer, or glue;
But you’ll swiftly discern that you always can learn,
And the deadline is imminent, too!

So scram for the border–which one doesn’t matter:
Just clear out, m’laddie, and having cleared, scatter.

Depend not on alibis–the same for your patter,
For Flo knows the former and sees through the latter.

No, it’s only in lamming that safety doth loom:
And that quickly, or find yourself LOCKED IN YOUR ROOM!

by Ray Romine Friday, September 24, 1943

They argue over who shall wipe
And who shall wash. I light my pipe;
I sit back in my easy chair,
Contented and relaxful there,
And have the paper half read through
When comes the emissary to
Announce what he had half expected:
Father dear has been elected.

by Ray Romine Friday, October 5, 1951