A Small Meal

 I am a small person, in such a big world
A sous-chef of words, in poetic pot swirled.
I wish to serve all who might sit at my table
Lexicographic stew just as fast as I’m able.

The phrases and words which have simmered for ages
I now strive to serve on my tables’ blank pages.
A serving spoon full, laid in lines nicely ordered
Minds’ napkin and fork on each side, neatly bordered.

Emotional spices, punctuations bold strikes, 
I’ve mixed them all in with my hates and my likes
And dutifully stirred my mysterious brew
In hopes that each serving will bring something new.

Sometimes just a snack, other times a great feast
I let others decide from the greatest to least.
But I will keep serving my humble life stew
To all who read poetry, ‘specially you.

By James Geehring