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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.
Copyright ©
Bill Howard
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