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Poem
I was sitting on the back veranda perusing through a book,
and I could find nothing in it that I should ever overlook.
I’m not certain that the contents would be welcome by my spouse,
for the title prints division - You Can Be the Man of Your House.

So long now I have allowed my wife to rule our family roost,
and after finishing that book, it’s time I gave myself a boost,
so I took a couple of deep breaths, before I ambled on inside,
to make a statement to my wife about the way she must abide.

There on the couch and eating chocolate, and watching television,
my wife was unprepared for me to start a marital collision.
She gazed at my stern expression, and I gathered she’s confused,
but I changed that in an instance, although she didn’t seem amused.

‘From now on, you need to know, that I am going to be the man 
of this house where law’s MY word, so you prepare to live MY plan.’
She gazed at me with a puzzled look, as if thinking I’m absurd,
but in the process she just sat there, and she never spoke a word.  

‘You will prepare a gourmet meal tonight, that has to be five course.
After dinner’s eaten, I demand ice cream, with rich chocolate sauce.’
She blinked at me with perplexed eyes, but then hardly even stirred,
but in the process she just sat there, and she never spoke a word.  

‘And once MY dinner’s finished, we will be going to our bedroom,
where we’ll have passion MY way, so clean up and put on perfume.’
She gaped at me mouth open wide, as if annoyed at what she heard,
but in the process she just sat there, and she never spoke a word.  

‘Then while I get my breath back, you will run a bath and add some scent,
so I can lie back and relax, then you’ll wash my back ‘til I’m content,
and then you’ll gently towel me dry and put on me dressing gown,
before you massage both me feet and hands, and then you can sit down.’ 

But through my process she just sat there and she never spoke a word.  
I reckon I am on a winner, not realizing what I stirred,  
‘There’s just one more thing I’m going to add,  to make you well aware, 
tomorrow guess who's going to dress me, and who will comb my hair?’

She stared up at me from on the couch; but at first there’s no response.
She still looked calm like all before, and in a total nonchalance,
but then she rose just like a dragon, breathing fire on my success,
‘The bloody funeral director would be my one and only guess.’
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