Cooking (Petrarchan sonnet)
Just about right to quench the appetite
A banquet of words passionately learned
Roasted verbs and nouns, deep-fried metaphors
An amous-bouche to start up the mouth right
I’m ready to serve no plates in my sight
I need a dull-waiter now there’s cold words
I might be roasted oh so very slow
This needed to pop now we’re all out of time
Cocktails will stall, cocktails will save the day
When drunk as a skunk who cares about the food
I might impress with a wine 27 years best
I put the food on napkins for my tables
When gone is the food in style is the brew
The blood of my heart on full display.