My Wife's Little Helper

No man could boast a wife like mine,

So full of beauty, so full of vim.

Who's always neatly groomed and prim.

And on hardy meals I often dine.

My house is kept in order and immaculate

She greets me smiling ev'ry day, and yet

These ten years together has not cost my dear her shine.

I often marvel at how she does this all and still

Has time for ladies' circle and playing with young Will.

But her evening routine has an odd design

And she warns in grave tones to never forget

To make sure milk and cake has been set

Out upon the table before we pray Compline.

Stranger still is upon awaking the following dawn

The saucer is empty and the cake is gone.

One night I crept from bed, seeking a sign

As to what transpired while during hours of rest.

I waited until midnight as per my quest.

To understand that wife of mine.

As midnight struck there came a tiny man in brown

And gobbled up the cake and the milk he gulped down.

He scrubbed the floors, he cleaned the flue.

He fetched the wood, and water he drew.

The dishes soaking, the weeds removed.

The laundry done, the dusting too!

This surreal spectacle served to prove

This fool's perfect wife was too good to be true.