The Way To A Man’s Heart

Posted by: ann on: 16 November 2006

• In: poetry
• 6 Comments

I’m gonna tell you how it really is
I was the epitome of a domestic goddess
I wore with pride my feather duster
Flipping at cobwebs spiders afluster
The floor shone from heavy elbow grease
It was quite the conversation piece
Although I think the view from behind
Was grossly exaggerated and maligned
Still my prowess with the Hoover
Acquired me a reputation as quite a mover
In the kitchen I was an angel
And I don’t just mean buttering bagels
I could whip up a gateau just like that
Counting the calories, carbs and fat
And my desserts were simply to die for
Heaven on a plate… who wants more
They say the way to a man’s heart is through his tummy
Honey, that’s simply scrumptious, luscious, just like mummy’s
Although I believe that was aiming a tad too high
They were spinning a yarn, telling a lie
For to win a man’s heart it’s not just an angel they want
To get their orange juice, coffee and croissant
They want it the morning after spending a night
With the domestic goddess’ devil’s delight

Copyright 2006 ann raven

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