There was an old short-order cook, a wise old cook was he.
He said, 'Step in, mate. Take a pew.
'I'll fry up something good for you.
'My griddle's slick with grade-A grease.
'Your hunger pangs, they soon will cease.
'Your heart and belly will know peace;
'And how about some stew? '
'My chili's hot as hot can be;
'An oxymoron, don't you see?
'I also serve up jumbo shrimp
'With slaw and french fries. I don't scrimp!
'A burger rare or burnt to char
'Will help you see things as they are.
'Cash only! Nothing good is free! '
'A glass of soda, or a shake?
'A slice of pie? A piece of cake?
'I have big ears as you can see.
'Feel free to share your woes with me.
'Joy should be shared as well as sorrow.
'I'll pray you have a good tomorrow.'
If you show up early in the day,
He'll say, 'Some eggs are on the way,
'Eyes closed or open, over easy;
'And my home fries are never greasy.
'You'd like a rasher, or some ham?
'Biscuits and butter, toast and jam?
'Just serving food is not my goal.
'Good food and friendship feed the soul.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful poem, Robert. Fun to read. Thanks