She comes in all sizes and shapes

Her figure may be pudgy or skinny

She may sprout chin hairs

Or a boil on her nose

But what I propose

Is a sight to behold

For she conjures up magical feasts

In her cauldron you’ll find

Soups of all kinds

Whether pureed or diced to perfection

There are sumptuous platters of

pheasant or pork

Of venison, beef, and fried chicken

Accompaniments of all kinds just

blows your mind

Her breads sent around

never fail to astound

And delectable desserts are a must

Fruit pies, cakes, puddings, cookies and tarts

Sheer delight at the end of each meal

But death by chocolate,

as all of us know

Is without a doubt the best way to go

The result - our demise

Is not a surprise

It is the kitchen witch’s intent

Don’t you know?

D.J. Hausman-Hill

Lititz