Thank you for the jouissance

Oh,milk pan thank you for the joy
When I  sip my  Horlicks  here.
You have never set on fire
Nor exploded  in your ire
For I burned you by mistake
When I wrote a poem one  night
Yet when I have cleaned you up
No-one would  guess there was mishap
Unlike the dangerous non-stick pans
I have destroyed eight or nine
For I have to harm some  thing
Since my husband went missing
Better far to break a plate
Than to fall into a lake
Without conscious plan or thought
I broke all  those mugs he bought
And I broke the wedding gifts
Eight green bowls and sugar sieves
Still I have not burned a cake
Though my hands do rather ache
My joints are swollen like my head
I think I’d  better go to bed
Otherwise I might  confess
That  last night I wore a dress
A summer navy with white stripes
On my body of delight
So  now I’ve told you  of my sin
I hope you will not tell my kin
For they think I am a  saint
My reputation  has no taint
But in secret I am bad,
When a girl I loved a lad
Now I’m older I still do
To be honest,I love two.
One is from  the North York Moors
The other’s foreign,I am sure
For unlike  cold English folk
I’m his cat and he  me strokes
He cannot speak except in code
I understand it’s  very rude.
Since he’s   only 93
I hope that he will outlast me
As for that braw Yorkish man
I’ll get another woman in
Then we’ll live like animals
As a  little group of pals.
We’ll pray for mercy as we’re old
We want fun  before we’re cold