She said she’d teach me how to cook.
I thought I caught a sultry look
But told her “Sure that would be fine”-
“We’ll start,” she said, “with cooking wine.”
At least, that’s what she said it was-
I never question her because-
The ship she runs is very tight-
And not the only thing that night.
I got the glasses, got it poured-
Just what is it about her, Lord?
We made a toast and took some sips-
I guess I stared… those luscious lips.
She asked me what’s my favorite dish?
Say anything that I should wish…
Well…since she put it just like that-
I told her, “What I’m looking at.”
I’m sure that came as no surprise-
Her specialty is cooking guys-
But even though I’m known as sweet
I’m not afraid to take the heat.
We both had hunger, class dismissed-
The apron flew somewhere, we kissed-
I took the lead, I cooked with oil-
The temperature was set to broil.
John H. Bidwell