When I first learned how to cook
I opened up a book
and was surprised at all the things I had to do

I was trying for beans and rice
What I got was nothing nice
It looked and tasted like old sweat sock stew

But I refused to get discouraged
and my mother, she encouraged
me to try and try some more

My mashed potatos they had lumps,
and my apple sauce had crunch
because my recipe said nothing about the core

And when I learned to bake
it was a terrible mistake,
because cakes and pies are such an awful pain

My yellow cake did not rise
and my chocolate attracted flies
and my rum cake caught the whole kitchen aflame

I once made cream puffs
and they couldn't get enough
and each person must have had three or four

But I thought it sort of strange
when they all called me deranged
when each was wheeled through the emergancy room door

But through trials and tribulation
and at least some frustration
I began to get more profecient at my skill

I began to draw a crowd
and each exclaimed aloud
That they no longer had need to bring a will

And through the cooking classes
I learned to feed the masses
and it is a joy to hear their praises

I now cook with out restraint
but have one small complaint
Why is it so hard to get our raises?

Though my cooking has passed the test
I know I'm not the best
because cooking is a science and an art

A true cook knows what it takes
the pressure and mistakes
with a dog eared cookbook and plenty of courage to start

28 February, 2002

I am not that bad of a cook .....Really......Honest.......Would Iie to you?