Cooking Class

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