A poem about the passion of reading and cooking.

She was a bookworm of the most finicky kind
reading every day with a book always in reach
at the thrifty store the books were all consigned
she rebuffed discriminately with slow impeach
and rebuked all books that weren't a food find

She ravaged books about cakes & pate de foie gras
buttered tarts, angel hair, and little canape things
books about how to bake fish and how to fry bass
like a true galloping gourmet she would bring
the recipes home and make them sing...

When winter came she'd sit like a chow hound
and copy recipes into her little red copybook
feeling lucky for the precious books she found
Pillaging the remnants with eyes sharp as a rook
she made the kitchen her haven, and fair ground

Her recipe for lava chocolate soufflé had charm
and her English toffee lollies were never fickle
she bought her eggs fresh from the dairy farm
and when she made cucumber and gin popsicles,
you could lick to hearts content they do no harm .

March 12, 2019