It’s that time again.

It’s time to make some food
it’s time to crack out the pans
it’s time to wield the spatula
with culinary hands.

It’s time for me to rise
to the challenge once again
to formulate dainty morsels
to feed my hungry men.

How do I know that it is time?
Is it expertise strange and rare?
No, I can tell my men are hungry
when the clock hands point anywhere.

Pad day 9 poem