In Marlowe's Kitchen

Come live with me and be my love
And just as loaves of bread will prove,
Our lives, each other’s lives will leaven,
Rising thus, become our heaven

We will sit on kitchen chairs
Discuss our hopes, our fears, our cares,
The things that fill our daily lives
Midst cups and bowls, and spoons and knives

And I will make thee fragrant bread
To please your stomach and your head
With herbs and spices so sublime
No better way to use our thyme

An apron dusted o’er with flour
Discarded, as we wait an hour
Our time determined by the yeast
So on each other’s words we feast

A feast of words, then tongues and lips
Of saffron-yellowed fingertips
If your kiss tastes of garlic-clove
Come live with me and be my love

The kitchen I describe in verse
Is center of my universe
If you would share my kitchen stove
Then live with me and be my love

Over at the Smithsonian's site, there is a nice story, Food From the Age of Shakespeare. You know how I feel about both food and Shakespeare, so it's as if I had a custom article just for me. And since today is Shakespeare's birthday, it's all the better.

Today's verse, though, is not Shakespeare; today's verse is from a bit of fun I had some years ago, trading Marlowe (and other) parodies with a dear friend. I particularly like the use of the synonyms "prove", "leaven", and "rise" in the first stanza. Sometimes these things just happen.

It is raining, cold, and miserable here today in Cuttletown; it would be a wonderful day to bake bread. That, and watch the new Doctor Who.