21 February 2009

To all cooks, you have my endearing heart

From the first of the morning,
To the last off the grill,
You set out the food,
ne'er to chill.

The peppers and onions,
the panfries and gravy,
and all of the food stuff
so scrumptious and savory.

You make this all happen
with a flick of the wrist,
with a pinch of green onions,
and, well, you get the gist.

From chicken sans bones
To special du jour,
Your plates come out steaming,
Your saucer's couture.

From pasta al dente
to denvers with cheese,
we only see part of
what the cook sees.

You re-do our orders,
you fix our mistakes,
you give us the job,
you do what it takes.

We know you are special,
a little whacky, too,
but it's because of your breed
and how you make do.

We take off our hats
and tip them to you
because you're our cooks
and in our own ways, we love you, too!

1 comment:

  1. Ah yes, the service industry poetry. I have quiet a few poems I wrote out on napkins while working the night shift at Time Hortons.


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