The Dress and The Iron

The Dress lay crumpled on the ground
It was deeply depressed
"I'm so wrinkled all over,
I've lost my youthful zest!
Oh! I look a complete wreck!"
It tearfully confessed.

"Nonsense," growled the stiff Iron
Perched up on the board.
"You look quite fetching actually -
I'll put it on record.
From the very day we met,
It's you that I've adored!"

The Dress could not believe its ears
It blushed red to its roots
It felt so light with happiness
Up to the board it flew
It quivered with excitement -
The Iron felt it too.

As the Iron kissed the Dress,
it felt real warm inside
Tracing every contour,
smoothly it did glide
Heating up and spewing steam,
smoothly did it slide

Catching every little fold
Smoothing every crease
Warm sometimes and hot sometimes,
the Iron did so tease!
And when the Iron was all done,
The Dress was very pleased.

The Dress felt young all o'er again,
The wrinkles were all gone!
It danced away impatiently,
Leaving the Iron alone
Cold and lonely, on the board
The Iron stood, forlorn.

Every day the Iron waits
For the wrinkled Dress
It's always there to reassure
the Dress, when it's depressed.
A fleeting love affair with one,
it can never possess.