There's no one quite like your mother.
Or anyone who cooks like her.
Or anyone who can take the place of your father.
Or the time he spent teaching a little girl to poach eggs
All the times you tried to cook and failed
Or the times you were sure you screwed up up but didn't.
Or the joy you felt when your meal was praised
Or the way you squirmed when the salt was too much
There's that kitchen you call your very own
A five-star affair...or is it a hole in the wall?
Too small, too big, just about right...
Where you conjure dishes day and night
That oven, that old pan with the loose handle
That measuring cup that has seen better days
That old cooker that was a wedding gift
Those serving dishes you use with care...
All that...every moment
you spend cooking
spreading smiles
sharing love
are special
are all YOURS!
Or anyone who cooks like her.
Or anyone who can take the place of your father.
Or the time he spent teaching a little girl to poach eggs
All the times you tried to cook and failed
Or the times you were sure you screwed up up but didn't.
Or the joy you felt when your meal was praised
Or the way you squirmed when the salt was too much
There's that kitchen you call your very own
A five-star affair...or is it a hole in the wall?
Too small, too big, just about right...
Where you conjure dishes day and night
That oven, that old pan with the loose handle
That measuring cup that has seen better days
That old cooker that was a wedding gift
Those serving dishes you use with care...
All that...every moment
you spend cooking
spreading smiles
sharing love
are special
are all YOURS!
Lovely - I like to use the dishes and implements that were my mother's. Fellow poet ~Liz http://www.lizbrownleepoet.com (website, Blogger will take you somewhere else!)
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