The most exquisite chefs of all
Take currency of dearer kind;
They do not want our tasteless cash
But all our senses unrefined.
Trained since the day that we were born,
They’ve lived their lives as though a slave
To understand and cater to
The tastes that we so fiercely crave.
Perception guides their seasonings
With herbs that we have never seen,
Though we will recognize the salt
That drips into their fine cuisine.
Whilst not the fare we might expect
From passionate, soul-searching cooks,
Their recipes are exclusive,
Not found in magazines or books.
In every dish we note their art,
Sincerity in every bite,
Though limited by what we give;
Creation is the souls’ delight.
Sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet,
Complexity in every note;
Not all their servings swallow well;
A lump can form deep in your throat.
They take our orders as they come,
A one-man kitchen, sink, and crew,
And hope that we are satisfied
With flavored feelings that we chew.
2018 © Sonya Annita Song