A South Indian Wife’s Jeremiad

I made him a coffee, piping hot,
Before he could get out, of his cot.
He said the coffee was, neither hot nor strong,
And I wish I had slept, a little more long!
I made him <i>dosa</i>, as thin as paper,
Little realizing, his interest in <i>dosa</i>, would dramatically taper!
He said, <i>dosa</i> was not filling,
And my culinary experiments, were killing!
I prepared for him, fresh babycorn soup,
But even then, his jaws didn’t droop!
I made for him, cashewnut-strewn rice <i>pongal</i>,
He said with it too, I did bungle!
I offered him <i>rava upma</i>,
He quipped, it could be best prepared, only by his <i>amma</i>!
I realized it was difficult to please his palate,
And left him at the breakfast, with an empty plate!


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