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I will turn back the tattered pages of my life,
when all was beautiful and happy and my dad was alive;
            how that man loved to barbecue on summer days,
but he sure made a lot of smoke and sometimes fire too.

      Often, we had burgers and hot dogs, slightly burnt,
but still delicious and mom would make a variety of salads;
            we would eat outside on the deck talking and laughing,
dad would say, "I cooked now you clean the barbecue."

      I had always been dad's assistant in all things he did,
whether it be yard work, woodwork, or the barbecue;
            there were times when we went all out with cooking,
by doing steaks, corn on the cob and baked potatoes.

      Oh, that was so yummy and it makes me smile too,
as mom would be worried dad would overdo the steaks;
            so she would be constantly checking and complaining,
and in the end-   they were burnt, but I loved them still.

      After dad went to heaven-  mom appointed me the cook,
I had watched dad for years but never actually done it;
             was clueless on how to light it even and was scared,
      anyways, I tried-   burnt my eyebrows and my bangs.


           I went inside the house-

                    "Mom, we are not barbecue people . . . anymore! "

 

_______________________
July 12, 2018


Poetry/Verse/Summer Cooking
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1041-296-01
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.


For the contest, Summer Cooking
sponsor, Kim Rodrigues

First Place

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