A "necessary" is necessary.
Technically, a necessary is a privy. However, when you need one, there is no quibbling.
So here is your challenge: write a poem about a bathroom. It doesn't have to be your own bathroom. (But it does have to be your own poem.) Be creative: I wrote a poem that began in my childhood kitchen, involved poker and wound up in a cemetery.
C'mon, I'll be there with you all the time. Er, not there, but — never mind. Just write your bathroom poem. I'll be there when you get out.
The condo I just bought has two. Some houses
had three. What to do with them all? Use one?
Turn the others into extra closets?
Reserve one for guests? There are none
I'd invite. I talk too much to too
many people all day. On conference
weekends I have to talk Sundays too,
and when I close my door, I want silence.
Back home we were seven. Our bathroom the only
room we could lock in a house without keys.
We'd sit, read, dream, alone, not lonely,
until testy banging disturbed our peace.
Then we'd sigh, flush, put down our text,
and turn our sanctuary over to the next.
by Elisabeth Kuhn
from Average C-Cup © Turning Point
P.S. If you haven't shared your daffodil poem, send it in today. If I receive it by 5 pm Tuesday, I'll post it with the others. C'mon, it'll be fun, and you get a book of poems for your efforts.