Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Paul Chidyausiku

To my Bath Tub

To my Bath Tub

To my Bath Tub

An hour in my bath tub
is what the doctor prescribed.
Every evening I slide into my tub,
Into water of measured temperature.

Relaxed, I lie on my back
All submerged except for my head.
My body and the water become one in warmth.
Like a hypnotist I conjure my mind and body
To relax and sleep.

My mind reaches as far back as it can
to select the things I like to remember;
Then I go forward to visualise the future;
And back to review the day’s work.
But on some days I put on reading glasses
And sleep in a play act just for the joy of it.

If it were for cleaning the body,
Would it be necessary every day?
Even if I were a diesel mechanic,
Would I need an hour in the tub?
It is a therapeutic treat
For the body and for the mind.
Would you like to give it a try?
Don’t get addicted to it as I am!
Close

To my Bath Tub

An hour in my bath tub
is what the doctor prescribed.
Every evening I slide into my tub,
Into water of measured temperature.

Relaxed, I lie on my back
All submerged except for my head.
My body and the water become one in warmth.
Like a hypnotist I conjure my mind and body
To relax and sleep.

My mind reaches as far back as it can
to select the things I like to remember;
Then I go forward to visualise the future;
And back to review the day’s work.
But on some days I put on reading glasses
And sleep in a play act just for the joy of it.

If it were for cleaning the body,
Would it be necessary every day?
Even if I were a diesel mechanic,
Would I need an hour in the tub?
It is a therapeutic treat
For the body and for the mind.
Would you like to give it a try?
Don’t get addicted to it as I am!

To my Bath Tub

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère