[RCL]

Always Dance in the Kitchen

I’m dazzled by her dance across the floor,
her beat the rhythm of a racing heart.
With restless energy, she makes her start,
glides to the kitchen pantry to explore.

With whisk in hand, she whips to slowly pour
some eggs with parmesan, the crucial part.
She tempts me with her culinary art
and sashays toward the oven’s open door.

Hips shifting high and low, a cheeky sway,
she slides her bright frittata (potatoes, eggs,
red peppers, onions) into our new Mugnaini.
In close embrace, caressing with my legs,

I dip her deep to stimulate romancing
and sweetly spicy after-dinner dancing.

[Ann Drysdale]

If you could bear to change "deeply" to "deep", the line would sing sweeter.

[RCL]

Ann, thanks! While you were helping that line, I was reworking it. I hope for the better.

[Julie Steiner]

Okay, Roger, I surrender:

⚐

[Ann Drysdale]

Not sure, Ralph - I think you've scuppered the scansion now.

I like the dipping deep because of the (additional) dance image - a lovely waltz move - I see Ginger bending over backwards (so to speak!) while Fred holds her, safe but at his mercy...

[RCL]

Ann, you're absolutely right, so thanks again! I had him behind her in the previous line, which would make for an awkward dip, so also changed Behind to Closer.

[Jayne Osborn]

“Always dance in the kitchen.” That is really crap advice!
I did a Boogaloo and spilled a two-pound bag of rice.
While waltzing with a pan of oil I slopped some on the floor,
then trod in it and nearly did a cartwheel through the door.
I rumba-ed while I peeled the spuds and tango-ed as I stirred
some soup, but did my back in and I thought: This is absurd.
“Here’s how to have a happy marriage:’’ someone said to me,
“Always dance in the kitchen.” I can’t see how that can be
the way to wedded bliss. I grilled some sausages and jived,
but burnt myself so badly it’s a wonder I survived.
The kitchen is a place to cook, and wash up; that is all.
It’s not for dancing in; eventually you’re bound to fall.
I haven’t even mentioned knives – I just can’t bear to think
of slipping while you do a quickstep straight into the sink.
You foxtrot, samba, cha cha, all you like – though I’ll ask, “Why?”
I’ve done a Risk Assessment and the danger’s far too high!