She bakes my cakes, and she cooks my rice,
Everything she cooks turns out nice,
It does not matter how she looks,
Because I love the way she cooks.
Her figure and face, did not catch my eye,
But I do truly love her baked apple pie,
There are crannies and there are nooks,
I wonder if that helps the way she cooks.
For Her cooking I will stand in line,
If I am able, at her table, to dine.
Like fish caught by baited hooks,
I’m captivated by the way she cooks.
Hidden secrets may never be learned,
Her reputation was not easily earned,
The formula is not found in any books,
Real love affects the way she cooks.
Not just a cook, she is author and scholar,
Her writings have earned her a pretty dollar.
As much as I enjoy reading her books,
I do really love the way she cooks.
