Pans: Again

More pans to wash … More pans to wash!!! They come umpteen times a day. My hands are chapped, My back is crook’d I wish they’d go away. But when they’re dry and shiny, sitting neatly on their shelves My thoughts can turn to what comes next - Some tasty treat, no longer vexed I now ‘create; and undertake Pie, bun, roast a glorious cake? Foods to soothe the ravening beasts My pans cook up some wondrous feasts.