A prolonged war with virus has worn her quite a bit
Back home though from hosp she is still far from fit
I don’t know how to cook can’t make a simple meal
She drained of strength has to gather all her will.
For she knows for all my rhymes I’m practically no good
Won’t budge from my ignorance to make for us some food
In the kitchen I tell her ‘show me how to make
A few basic dishes I’m tired of cornflake’.
She says ‘too late dear, know what I feel?
You lost thirty years to grow some culinary skill’
Then she busies herself while I get lost in rhyme
Her occupation is life saving, mine not worth a dime.
Superb..men are not that good when it comes to cook.a delightful write sir, throughly enjoyed it: -)
So very interesting and true to the core! This happens in many households! The menfolk have to be given some special training in culinery skills to meet this sort of emergency situations... or else everyone has to be satisfied with cornflakes or oatmeal! Really enjoyed the last two lines! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Women don't like us any where near their kitchens. They think we'll make a mess. A great poem.