The Kitchen
One day the Kitchen decided to leave the house.
Can you imagine – leave the house!?!
It was already out of town when I caught up and asked,
“Where are you going with the dishes and cups?
Are you upset?”
Of course the Kitchen didn’t reply,
but the oven, puffing smoke, bellowed a cry,
“We’re tired. Just tired. That’s all.
So when the Kitchen said go, we answered the call and went.
Gruff-Huff-Poof!”
“But,” I protested, “you’ve so many meals and holidays
and birthdays and parties and
… and so many occasions provided for.
How can you all that success ignore?”
The oven shut its door and frowned.
The teapot pouted its lip and looked down,
“He said tired. We’re all just tired.”
Upon hearing that, I naïvely inquired,
“Tired of What?”
You’d think I had tickled a laughing hyena!
The shrieks from the pots and the pans and the china,
the flatware and sink and the Kitchen itself,
revealed very clearly the anger they felt!
Then up flared the stove and the cutlery flew
and I barely escaped, and I now must tell you:
Whoever enters a hot Kitchen nave
exceeds and surpasses the bravest of brave.
And I, for one, I tell you my friend,
shall not ever question a Kitchen again.
Baron von Dael
Baron von Dael was a very greedy man – a very greedy man indeed;
but he hid his naughty vice from the foolish and the wise
by tithing all his wealth religiously.
But beyond this tepid token of his generosity,
the Baron never helped another soul.
Still, the Baron always said, “I pray the poor are fed!”
and “Fortune for myself is not the goal! O no!
Fortune for myself is not a goal!”
Now, the Preacher and the Doc and the Mayor and the Cop
were indebted to the Baron for their pay,
so the Baron called on them to be sure he’d always win
if a threat should ever dare to come his way.
It is thus that poor Gus does now enter in this tale,
for he made a food that very magic’ly
has the power in itself to multiply itself
so the buyer buys it once and then is free.
Free! Yes, O free from the pain of hunger’s grip
and free from sudden bell that death does ring.
But for Baron von Dael who does make his wealth through sale
of costly food that’s processed by machine,
the invention of poor Gus caused a mighty rotten fuss
in his profit-making fine food industry.
So the Baron did begin with fervor fast to spin
a web of sticky lies, and here they be:
The Cop said, “Gus is shady!”
as the Doc said, “He is crazy!”
while the Mayor said, “That Gus I cannot trust!”
Then the Preacher filled the air with a holy, reverent prayer,
“O dear Lord please keep such poison far from us!”
By the time that all these lies were thus sounded through the skies,
the food that Gus was making caused a scare!
So the food and recipe were both burned for all to see
and poor Gus was sent forever far from there.
But in a far off land where the people lend a hand
to anyone who travels in their way,
Gus freely made his food, and that nation quickly grew
to be the most ingenious of that day.
Baron von Dael was a very greedy man – a very greedy man indeed;
though he hid his naughty vice, Highland folk put him on ice
when they read this selfsame story that you read.
The moral of this tale is not one I can tell,
but here is why the Baron’s in his tomb:
Danger surely looms
when a poet’s in the room
because funny words on paper spell out doom
sometimes;
yes, funny words on paper spelled his doom.
Gretta’s Bread
Gretta rises early each morn to bake fine loaves of bread;
her recipe’s secret, it’s not written down, it’s just kept up in her head.
People travel from distant towns in hope of at least a bite.
Her bread is so tasty, soft and warm … but one day it stirred up a fight!
One assertive young woman had come too late—the bread had just run out.
She plaintively snatched a piece from a lad which made the little boy shout!
Gretta emerged from her bakery in time to see the lad
let his foot fly and kick the woman … at that Gretta’s face turned sad.
The young woman took hold of Gretta’s strong arm and led her off to the side;
she said that the bakery just doesn’t produce enough bread to keep folks satisfied.
The assertive young woman suggested a plan to help more folk to get bread;
Gretta agreed to allow her to knead the dough so more people are fed.
Gretta couldn’t foresee what was coming up next—the young woman quickly took charge,
and Gretta’s small bakery grew to a factory that merely could boast that it’s large!
People have gradually completely forgot the taste of the small bakery;
they settle for size and price and speed that churn from such bread factories.
Still, Gretta rises early each dawn and bakes loaves high in the hills
to feed just the mountain men passing her way, and each one can eat till he’s filled.
Green Eggs and Ham
For breakfast all angels eat cinnamon toast,
while champions devour bagels and jam;
the breakfast all children have come to love most
is green eggs when scrambled and served up with ham.
The Porridge
The most wonderful way to start the day –
whether it’s August, December or May –
is with a deep bowl that’s narrow on top,
that bulges then tapers to keep the mix hot!
The mix has been bubbling and boiling so slow
atop a low fire that sets it aglow!
The bell is rung as boiled oats fill the bowls:
each is awakened with food for their souls.