A Crook of a Cook
After a momentary look
And a longer one I took
At the size of her ordered wood,
While I, still stood,
I surrounded that our cook
Is some sure crook,
Her motives a completely readable book,
Her inner spirit reached with my hook…
And in her spirit saw I not a spook
But upon what I stumbled thrice shook:
I’d swear at a shrine A crook of a cook.
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