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Rated: E · Poetry · Contest Entry · #2239883
Senior Center December contest

Oh, I dreamt I cooked in a Kitchen, with twenty in my employ,
And every hand was a handsome young man, there to give me joy -
Dressed up like guys from the Penthouse Club, and the sexiest ever seen -
In jock straps, in denim, in leather - and in suits with a silken sheen.

There were short muscly men, there were tall broad men, and some were sleek and lean -
They were five foot five, they were six foot ten, and every height between

The kitchen was lit with strobe lights, a wonderland to behold,
The utensils were jewel encrusted, and the sink was pure gold.
The ovens were all computerised - a robot was always at hand,
To grant every wish and wash every dish, to obey my every command.

My pay was a thousand an hour, just to tell all my guys what to do,
Ordering mixing and beating and kneading, and a kiss and a cuddle too.
I gave my orders most kindly, whilst resting on my water bed,
And they gave me champers and caviar, or ouzo and oysters, instead.

There were three of those guys to admire my eyes, and three more to laugh at my jokes,
And at least three for sure, fought to be my masseur, they were all of them such jealous blokes.
I kept trying to choose the sexiest one, as I ate some strawberries and cream,
When I woke to a kitchen filled up with smoke, to find 'twas a house-wife's dream!!!

(With humble apologies to Henry Lawson and his 'Shearer's Dream')

(18 lines)
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