(Poets have, for centuries, tried to capture the essence of the perfect woman)

As you approach twenty-one

Get out there and start to have fun

But before you start kissing

It’s time you should listen

To a father’s advice to his son.

It’s important you don’t end up stuck

With a woman unable to cook

So ignore all their bitching

They belong in the kitchen

With Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s book.

And a woman with warmth and with charm

Who’s always so cool and so calm

Who talks sport and art is

A winner at parties

Will always look well on your arm.

And you’ll never have words or a row

With a woman who pulls on a plough

Cos you’ll never need tell her

“Get t’coal up from t’cellar”

Or “Muck out that pig or that cow”.

And everyman’s boastful and brags

When his girl’s like those footballer’s wags

When she’s such a good-looker

Photographers took her

Snaps for celebrity mags.

But their strength and their cooking and grace

And beauty will fade without trace

So a word to the wise

In that what I advise

Is a woman who’ll sit on your face.