KITCHENS

Radio Record, Volume I, Issue 12, 7 October 1927, Page 6

KITCHENS

I never knew a man who didn’t like A kitchen fire; . Nor a woman, if she be away awhile, But would tire Of inns and servants, and would long to be Back in her own kitchen, buttering toast, And making tea, The drain boards and the sink are serubbed as white As ocean sands; The dotted muslin curtains are drawn ack 5 A basket ctands Heaped high with yellow apples, and the smell Of the whole room is clean, like gatments washed And ironed well. I know a kitchen where staid four o’clocks Bloom at the door, And the honey-coloured lights He dappled _ bright Along the floor. Above a flame a copper kettle sings The comforting sweet song of ‘all serene and gracious things. And I can take a yellow bowl an@ beat . White eggs to foam, And I can mark the clock’s face for the time A man comes home, . To find me there, contentment ig look, For he, like every man, delights to watch A woman cook,