Although what we do today feels routine,

a rhythmic activity which can seem mundane,

I still remember the very first time,

that whirl of surprise, then joy ... satisfaction.

I know back then it wasn't with you,

but a chance encounter, a sweet interlude,

a spiral I  held in my hand for a moment,

a love to be savoured, and longingly pursued,

for the sense of arrival, of brand spanking newness,

a blend of sensual and spiritual richness.

 

I know you won't be upset to know

that the feelings I have when I do this with you

relate to your constancy, your reliable friction,

the lump in my throat you help me to lose.

But remember this; it's you that I choose

to share this wonderful commonplace action.

You're the one I selected, the one that I chose,

the perfect companion in this middle class kitchen.

I appreciate every curve, every line,

oh stainless steel balloon whisk you'll always be mine.