In our dainty little kitchen, <br />Where my aproned wife is queen <br />Over all the tin-pan people, <br />In a realm exceeding clean, <br />Oft I like to loiter, watching <br />While she mixes things for tea; <br />And she tasks me, slyly smiling, <br />“Now just guess what this will be!” <br /> <br />Hidden in a big blue apron, <br />Her dimpled arms laid bare, <br />And the love-smiles coyly mingling <br />With a housewife’s frown of care— <br />See her beat a golden batter, <br />Pausing but to ask of me, <br />As she adds a bit of butter, <br />“Now just guess what this will be!” <br /> <br />Then I bravely do my duty, <br />Guess it, “pudding,” “cake” or “pie,” <br />“Dumplings,” “waffles,” “bread” or “muffins;” <br />But no matter what I try, <br />This provoking witch just answers: <br />“Never mind, just wait and see! <br />But I think you should be able, <br />Dear, to guess what this will be.” <br /> <br />Little fraud! she never tells me <br />Until ’tis baked and browned— <br />And I think I know the reason <br />For her secrecy profound— <br />She herself with all her fine airs <br />And her books on cookery, <br />Could not answer, should I ask her, <br />“Dearest, what will that mess be?”<br /><br />Ellis Parker Butler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-culinary-puzzle/
