Whilst preparing luncheon, I've had Mozart's company
Every Sunday morning
The old boy goes swimming
Whilst the little slave stays home
Cooking luncheon
Mark is in the garden, butchering the bay leaf tree
Don't know what's got into the boys,
Going manic with my trees
As soon as he leaves Mozart lands on the deck
Haven't heard from him for a long while ...
About time he came out!
As am preparing the chicken,
Mozart starts with Symphony No.29
So I cut chicken in half,
I can't bare to see a whole chicken before me
Bringing memories of home
Whilst mama executing poor chicken
Committing murder at dawn
The memory stayed ingrained on my mind
Seeing the said chicken hanging upside down...
Chicken I like not much; to prepare
Heaving goes I whilst preparing it...
So in half, I must cut so I don't puke
Whilst preparing,luncheon
He was playing so beautifully,
The most amazing sounds
Trouble's I can't just listen ,without conducting
Waving my knife like a baton,
No.35 came on didn't like that sound,
It was the funeral march, don't you know...
In my haste to stop that cacophony...
I dropped the bloody knife,
Oh bugger it nearly killed me
Limping I went to change the ruddy thing's a must
Symphony No 38 came in
Ahhh, that's much better, powerful music.
So chicken goes in oven ,with shallots and little potato's
I always put bay leaves, and garlic for the flavour
Symphony No. 39 comes, on the most wondrous sounds...
The whole Philharmonic orchestra right there in my kitchen...
Had quite forgotten, how beautiful the sound...
The veg I got on with carrots beans, sprouts,
Then I made a cheese sauce for cauliflower cheese too
Then symphony no.40 followed by No. 41
I started on the pudding, I made a tart tattin
No so sure of that spelling ...
But it matters not ,you get the gist of it
I made it with plums, and very nice they were too,
I made a caramel with grated orange cinnamon and star anise
Making a lovely liqueur to poach the plums in ...
Then serenade No.9 comes on
Oh my!! my whole brain fills
With the most, ecstatic sound you can imagine
And so I burned the pudding!
So what the hell I burned the caramel,
The plums too...
so I top it with ice cream and served it ...Yum...
Completely & utterly lost
With music in my soul!
The old boy goes swimming
Whilst the little slave stays home
Cooking luncheon
Mark is in the garden, butchering the bay leaf tree
Don't know what's got into the boys,
Going manic with my trees
As soon as he leaves Mozart lands on the deck
Haven't heard from him for a long while ...
About time he came out!
As am preparing the chicken,
Mozart starts with Symphony No.29
So I cut chicken in half,
I can't bare to see a whole chicken before me
Bringing memories of home
Whilst mama executing poor chicken
Committing murder at dawn
The memory stayed ingrained on my mind
Seeing the said chicken hanging upside down...
Chicken I like not much; to prepare
Heaving goes I whilst preparing it...
So in half, I must cut so I don't puke
Whilst preparing,luncheon
He was playing so beautifully,
The most amazing sounds
Trouble's I can't just listen ,without conducting
Waving my knife like a baton,
No.35 came on didn't like that sound,
It was the funeral march, don't you know...
In my haste to stop that cacophony...
I dropped the bloody knife,
Oh bugger it nearly killed me
Limping I went to change the ruddy thing's a must
Symphony No 38 came in
Ahhh, that's much better, powerful music.
So chicken goes in oven ,with shallots and little potato's
I always put bay leaves, and garlic for the flavour
Symphony No. 39 comes, on the most wondrous sounds...
The whole Philharmonic orchestra right there in my kitchen...
Had quite forgotten, how beautiful the sound...
The veg I got on with carrots beans, sprouts,
Then I made a cheese sauce for cauliflower cheese too
Then symphony no.40 followed by No. 41
I started on the pudding, I made a tart tattin
No so sure of that spelling ...
But it matters not ,you get the gist of it
I made it with plums, and very nice they were too,
I made a caramel with grated orange cinnamon and star anise
Making a lovely liqueur to poach the plums in ...
Then serenade No.9 comes on
Oh my!! my whole brain fills
With the most, ecstatic sound you can imagine
And so I burned the pudding!
So what the hell I burned the caramel,
The plums too...
so I top it with ice cream and served it ...Yum...
Completely & utterly lost
With music in my soul!
By Connie James...
No comments:
Post a Comment