First Marrieds
When first married,
I could not cook. There
was no complaint
from my young groom
saint. Because of me,
he endured Chef Boy-
ArDi, and also-rans from
lots of cans. Never
prone to expansive
praise, save a mild retort
if his bride fell short
of grooming perfection
that went by the book,
a simple retort, "I KNOW
how you can look."
That was his worst, all
the while becoming a first-
class cook-- I, his kitchen
scrub nurse. And,
after years of leaven
as good bread
must rise, we honed
a marriage forged
in heaven.
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