Some pungent from wear
some new, some threadbare
I sort them by color, the lights and the darks
on their nametags, I always read their remarks

some of them tell me they like to be cool
to get in hot water, they would be a fool
others like soaking in tropical heat
it makes their bathing experience sweet

inside a machine with some bubbles, they go
dancing and swirling to sweet water flow
taking some time for a relaxing soak
to prepare for the stress, agitation provokes

next, spinning around like a wheel of roulette
a motor driven pirouhette
soon they're again nice and clean, smelling sweet
but shivering cold and in need of some heat

to ease their chills, the next step comes
blasts of hot air in a tumbling drum
at last, an end to their bathing ordeal
they emerge warm and dry from that hot ferris wheel

before they go home, I fold them with care
in their own little drawer, now ready to wear
as I happily bid my clean friends goodbye
til next time I need them, they know I'll stop by