THE CHEF OF WORDS
I have found nothing sweeter than words.
My delicacies discovered in the inn of the wise,
Where words are served in saucer of proverbs,
Tasting sweeter than fruit salads in my ear,
Inspirations well baked, sweetened and iced,
Fed by men who wield not words as swords.
The Mind, the best kitchen for the best chef;
Mine is filled with intellectual ingredients,
Each thought seived, weighed and rationed:
To feed starved souls, I'm tidy not to hurt.
So words must be cooked in my mental pot;
Hourly boiled, and my messages are roasted
Before they are served, must be well pounded
Like pounded yam, better prepared hot.
My emotions stir the soup of muse,
Spiced with rhymes, seasoned with metaphors;
It's salted with simile, paradox flavoured.
With my voice as smooth as cod liver oil
I blend all my ideas like spaghetti coil
And cabbages of adages well meddled;
Adding sweet tones to the bones of riddles
Mixing milk and meat, juice and vinegar.
For my audience are Yearners, and Learners
My critical tongue taste the rhetorical first.
A cookery of words with savor of Egusi soup.
This palatable poem I serve on your table
May it be dished from behind a lofty podium.
At your service is - The Chef of words.
©15-01-16
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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