Ode to the Roomba (a love poem)

I'm sorry I doubted your abilities

but truly it didn't make sense

how could something so obviously round

clean corners without leaving a mess?

I didn't know about your magic brush

or your power to super suck

or your space age sensors that tell you where to go

or your 4-wheel drive that can get you unstuck.

And now, despite my lack of faith

you work hard for me every day

sweeping my floors (carpet and wood)

while I fold laundry and put it away.

How do I thank something that cleans my floors?

a job that I really detest.

Should I kiss you? or hug you? send flowers or treats?

Maybe a simple poem would be the best.

Dear roomba you've given me the thing I need most

more than diamonds or rubies or pearls

you've given me a few extra minutes each day

and for that, I forgive you for terrifying my girls.