There once was a housewife, not too long ago
Whose husband was oft out, earning the dough
She dresses up daily, from her head to her toes
She always look pretty, she’s just like a rose!
She cooks, washes, irons, and mops
Burning calories in her heels and fifties’ frocks
Be it plain, floral or elegant print
The dresses are gorgeous, rare and mint!
Is she happy, this queen of domesticity?
The lady seems restless in this capacity
The cook, the maid, the mother, the wife
Is it what she dreamed of – this life?
Her home may not always be neat as a pin
The milk spilled, the shirts burning
She’s not perfect, but she tries her best
Hats off to the missus, at least she’s faultlessly dressed!
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