Marjorie cooks with exceptional skill.
Treating her friends to her food is a thrill.
She feels satisfied when completing a meal.
Friends are content with their end of the deal.

They're fond of her food and its magical smells.
Her wooden-spoon wand wouldn't work without spells,
Recipes sweetly recited like verses,
The inverse of recipes dressed up as curses

From communal ovens of covens in caves,
Where gravy is bubbling in pet rabbit graves.
Her pastries entice. They're flawlessly dressed.
They taste twice as nice as their look would suggest.

Her friends have mixed feelings when thinking their teeth will
Knock walls in her cake that's shaped like a cathedral.
Marzipan people look up to admire
The low-in-fat steeple restored after fire.

She rarely got plaudits when learning her craft.
It took years of painful hand-burning, hard graft,
And training from Henry, a chef whose creations
Have triggered spontaneous standing ovations.

He'd preach fervent views on all features of food,
How creatures with pincers complete your good mood,
The careful addition of relish to dentures,
The best way to finish a salmon's adventures,

Or how to embellish the texture of liver.
She worked in his restaurant next to a river,
A place that is famous for its food and wine,
Where some of the great and the good come to dine.

She burnt all before her when learning her trade,
But Henry was certain that she'd make the grade.
He said trial and error and fire were her friends,
Constant companions on working weekends.

Henry would spend his spare time catching fish,
Dreaming of finding a star for a dish.
Most of the salmon who came to audition
Wore strong lemon perfume that roused his derision.

Some fish were plastered in garlic sauce make-up
That Henry found horrid. He told them to wake up
And see that they never would find fame and slaughter.
He'd throw them back into the crystal-clear water.

During a riverside breakfast at nine,
A beautiful salmon swam right past his line,
Completely ignoring alluring new bait,
While he contemplated its plate-starring fate.

Henry persisted in his special quest.
The salmon steadfastly resisted arrest.
He promised a strong cast for his shopping list,
The costliest parsley sauce known to exist,

Salad ingredients dressed to the nines,
The best new courgettes and the finest of wines.
But this salmon's shyness would keep it afar.
It showed little need to be his latest star.

His chase of the fish soon resembled a craze.
His mission to catch it consumed nights and days.
He'd try to persuade it that he'd make its name,
Describing the trappings and trimmings of fame.

His kitchen was suffering from his neglect.
Marjorie feared her career would be wrecked.
She needed his guidance, the facts he imparted,
His skill at extinguishing fires she had started.

An obstinate fire was refusing to fade,
Despite the repeated entreaties she made.
She needed her boss for these flames to be fired.
A diver provided the help she required.

He said there was one thing that no one could doubt:
His talent for stunning a salmon or trout,
Simply by looking extremely surprised.
This was how they should proceed, he advised.

He went underwater and lay there in wait.
The fish soon arrived for its battle with bait.
He switched on the headlights of his widened eyes.
The salmon succumbed to his dazzling surprise.

Henry was able to wade through the river
Without instigating the most meagre quiver
In either the diver or his frozen prey,
The paralysed fish who could not swim away.

He used his bare hands to ensnare his new star.
He thought of the tales he'd inspire at the bar.
Henry's elation engendered a song,
But his jubilation did not last too long.

Marjorie heard as her soaking boss sighed,
And said that the salmon seemed slightly cross-eyed.
He let the fish go to play bait-teasing games,
And went to his kitchen to put out the flames.