The Words At My Disposal

The words at my disposal May be simple, even trite; Yet they suffice to satiate My rhyming appetite. I spice them up as best I can And simmer them with care, At times attempting recipes Exotic, if I dare. Though usually my degustations Match my aptitude; I’ve sampled other sustenance, But rhyme’s my comfort food. And when I dish it out, I hope That someone takes a bite. It may not be gourmet, but hey, I think it tastes all right.