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Food Fun.
The Cook she fancied Chef.
She truly loved his meatballs
and as for his spotted dick. Sublime.
Chef he fancied Cook.
He really loved her chicken breasts
and wished one day to cover them
in a thick cream sauce.
Cook loved his chocolate eclair
and loved the taste of the cream
in her mouth.
Chef loved her pastry to,
and when she slapped her
dough on the table.
Well, he knew she kneaded it.
It always took a good pounding.
Nothing like a bun in the oven.
The smell of the finnon haddock
gently poaching in its milk
was enough to make an old Tom
howl with delight.
At last the eggs were poached.
Chef waited till his sausage
was properly stewed before
removing it.
Finger licking good.
Those melons would be ripe soon
and the pudding had reached
boiling point and would be left to simmer.
It was nearing the end
of another busy day
in the mixing bowl of life
that was the kitchen.
Only one question remained.
Who would get custody of the custard?
Not sure if you were after a sensual poem, but this is really good, gets your feelings across without being otherwise gross about it! ***** five stars!
Essie