Love Poems About Chef or Chef Love Poems
by Barbara Gorelick |
Categories: friendship, lovelove,

H Garvey Daniel Esquire...My Poetry Friend

His students proud to so declare
He is a Chef Extraordinaire

Keeping love for evermore
His late wife, sweet Lenore

From his mountain he looks out
Finding inspiration all about

Writing words from living life
His past, his share of human strife

He writes  with such emotion deep
Poetry that often makes me weep

He hasn't written much of late
Ill health has been his recent fate.

But, thanks to God he's on the mend
My best wishes I daily send

For all my life, my dearest friend
HG, my love to you I send...

by Phillip Rollings |
Categories: angel, dedication, farewell, grief, how i feel, inspiration, poetess,

A Tribute : To - Skat A

My heart grieves for the loss of a talented Quill
For the Inspiration she warmly gave to this newbie
From the sunlight of Skat's words of Wisdom
To the moonless midnight of a heart forlorn
Memories, smiles, and joy become shadows of the past
May the Spirit of poets past descend upon her heart
That she may see the Admiration and Love that Skat receives
(From me anyway) and many others I'm sure.

I Love You Skat and intend to read all of YOUR Quill after I finish
the comments on Your last post. As Chef says I bow to you and 
hand You The GOLDEN Pen of Poetry. You are my guiding ANGEL
             Respectfully submitted...Flipper

by Simon Nixon |
Categories: love, love, i love you,

Until My Last Breath

i love you i love you is all  i can say 
just being with you takes my breath away
i love you i love you until the very end 
your more than a lover you are my best friend 
life has no meaning when we are apart 
your beautiful,intelegent and you've stolen my heart 
although i can cook but im not a great chef
together forever 
until my last breath


by Richard Lamoureux |
Categories: dedication,

Barb's Delights

Let's go to Barb's Place
Have something to eat
Her perogies and cabbage rolls 
Are really hard to beat

If that's not enough
You should try out her ribs
Gooey and delicious
You better bring a bib

When it comes to cooking
Barb's food is like art
She prepares every morsel
With love from the start


Welcome to Poetry Soup Barb, what better person to contribute to the soup than a Chef Extrodinare. I am sure you will add your own special flavours.

by Arthur Vaso |
Categories: abuse, addiction, betrayal, corruption, crazy, parody,

The Chef Who Poisoned His Soup

You ‘died’
You LIED
I live with my conscious
You live with yours!

You ‘died’
You LIED
I live with my heart
You died with yours!

You ‘died’
You LIED
My heart BEATS with love
You beat with fists

You ‘died’
You deceived the living
I dance with butterflies and rainbows
You drowned in booze long ago

You ‘died’
Along with selfish sins, resurrected
Verbal tirades spewing from devil mouth
Hypocrite from the grave


Note: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

by Hidden Sister |
Categories: dedication, food, journey, passion, me, me,

Being a Chef

Me, I love to cook.
It makes me feel good.
I share my own skill.
Each time that I do.
It gives me such joy. 

It may sound odd.
I try each time.
To cook for you.
Fills me with hope.

I do try.
When I do.
To give all.

Make it.
One thing

Burst

by Elena Pisani |
Categories: grandfather,

My Grandfather

Dear grandfather,
My favourite cook!
The best chef 
Who needs no cook book.

Dear grandfather,
You looked after me when I was small
You took care of me when I grew tall.

Dear grandfather,
You always gave me good advice
Not just on homework
But some of the best advice on life.

Dear grandfather,
I really want you to know
That aslong as I grow
I will love you so!

by Louis Brown |
Categories: bible, desire, devotion, faith, i love you, jesus, spoken word,

I Love Him So

I will serve GOD until my last breath,
I know the devil comes to kill, destroy
and to represent theft,
See JESUS is the way
and he feeds us grace and mercy like a chef,
So I will eat until it's no more left,

But thats impossible because he is the supreme
the one we can lean on,
And as his follower I will cling on,
Because his team's strong,
We can praise him through prayers, shouts
or when we sing songs,

JESUS is my sunshine after the storm,
I found this out on the day that i formed,
My relationship with him, thats out of the norm,

So in a world that's dark, i'm ready to glow,
In his light and I will go where he tells me to go,
Because I love him so.

by Jessica Arteaga |
Categories: imagination, loveme, longing, me,

Waiting For Love

As my thoughts fill up this quiet room
My eyes daydream of who could take me soon
Of a love my life has still not met
Of a man who's yet not shared my quest

Will he be a master of the arts
And a chef who bakes me yummy tarts
Or will he be a quiet book worn man
That talks his writings that he makes by hand

I wonder if he would have strong long hair
And whisper to me how much he would bare
Touch me softly with his longing eyes
Looking at me knowing I'm his prize

It does not matter what he looks or does
But, just right now, I'm waiting for his love...









Theme from Constance's I Wait Patiently, Quietly poem

by Thabang Ngoma |
Categories: sexy, sports,

Too Late To Resist

My favourite sport
Serena on the tennis court
My ace in a pot
The plate on your stove red hot
Brimming with smells of exotic aroma
A vivacious spicy persona
The makings of a new recipe to taste
I'll be your chef for the night
Fingers clenched like a net
Slave to your tether like a pet
I’m about to play Russian roulette
With a fork and an omelette
Attracted to red, I reach for the heat
It burns too deep, too sweet
Surely this means stop
Boiling I’ve lost my top
And found your spot
In this steamy plot
I love the taste of meat
Marinated in fiery sweat
My taste buds receive a treat
Mouth drooling, body dripping wet

by Angelica Grier |
Categories: girlfriend-boyfriend, love,

Don'T Get It Twisted

I can make my own money
To pay my own bills and buy my own clothes
I have friends and family for calling and hanging out with
We don't have to kick it and you don't have to call
Solitude is not my enemy
You don't have to love me
I don't need your love or anyone else's
Even if no one else loves me, the Lord has that covered
Don't need a chaffeur, a doorman, or a bellhop
Nor a chef, cop, or mechanic
Blankets and hot chocolate keep me warm
So don't get it twisted I don't NEED you for anything
I just like having you around

by Candice Fabian |
Categories: food, girlfriend-boyfriend, love, passion,

The Chef

I peel you slowly.
Inch by inch.
Hands stutter, then
Nimbly uncinch.
First bite of flesh tight
And unyielding.
Slowly tenderize.
The salts are for curing.
You simmer slow.
Acid tang briefly
Taints the tongue –
Aromatic, you are like
Jasmine rice.
Just inhaling your slow roast
Salivates.
Slowly knead and
Rise.
Behold my baking – 
Mine for the taking.  
Throat wants to sing –
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm………………………………………….

by Melissa Ross |
Categories: death, dedication, faith, family, food, history

Gnoochi With Nonny

Summertime,
The living is lovely,
Gnoochi with Nonny,
Fresh dough,
Kneaded,
Love,
Needed,
For every step,
Chef caps adorn our crowns,
It’s a lovely afternoon,
Rich in tradition is our recipe,
Love is how it is conjured,
How I miss our days,
Of gnoochi and storytelling,
Memories are all that's left.

by Kenny A Fledgling Poet |
Categories: family, father, love,

An Life Goes On

He Has Fifty Years of Poetic Art
Forty Years, with a Broken Heart
Thirty-five Years “Culinary Arts” 

To Be Continued
  
Dedicated To Chef : Known to You as  -  HG ~ Harry ~ Liege

Poet's Note  : OK this is only my third Poem, so Please
give Your Advise it is muchly Appreciated I want to know;
I'm going to put this under the Form : Rhyme : My second
choice was Free Verse; Respectfully, kenny , A Fledgling POET

by Phillip Garcia |
Categories: divorce, poetry,

My Poetry Soup Recipe

From crispy candied apples, sticky sweets,
Derive the base by which my lines accrue;
For when pure-love reduced by coal depletes,
Then train of thought does simmer heavy rue.
As though embittered soup deducted cream:
Increasing one but makes another lack -
My fossil engine still beholden steam;
Thereby, poetic stew remains on track.
But, if I’m chef then who’s the engineer?
Smart poets pluck the vine whose fruit is loose;
As such, sweet compliments, ex-wife austere,
For all my wounds and her divine caboose -
   Because, while pain and sadness garnish me,
   Her tracks through me conduct my recipe.

1/31/2017

by Goode Guy |
Categories: image, introspection,

What They Do

a painter wants to paint you
the chef will cook for you
a writer wants to write for you
a doctor wants to cure you

a performer will entertain you
the clergy wants to save you
a counselor will explain you
a politician wants to sway you

the traitor will ruin you
a pimp, to prostitute you
a sniper wants to shoot you
a bomber will explode you

adolescence will renounce you
a bouncer wants to bounce you
a lover wants to love you
a god, to be above you

scorpions will strike you
the viper wants to bite you
a jellyfish will sting you
a songbird will sing to you

that's what they know to do

© Goode Guy 2013-05-01

by Joyce Johnson |
Categories: childhood, food, mother,

Resourceful Mama

A little whiff of cinnamon
is quite enough to make me cry,
to think I never more will taste
Mama's delicious sweet milk pie.

Made from her love and little else,
she could bake the delightful treat.
A great chef who's lacking nothing
would find her milk pie hard to beat.

by Sigrid Ermine |
Categories: august, beach, cry, giving,

Poison Pork Aphrodisiac

Hot Pot hold discards punctuality
Daddy's dinner waits for her arrival
Wave eruptions push sensuality
Faithful fund chef clings to their survival

Amazed, restrained, Romeo of Ocean 
Baby drips sweet dedication's poison 
Pork concoction mixes magic potion 
Car salesman harsh crumbles in kiss cloy zone

Hands on her shoulders, hovering near tears
Pledging, is it genuine, game so fresh
Marriage and love lasting infinite years
Kitchen affection belies arrangement 

Seven hour pork stew, beach stretch surfers viewed
Swallowed soft as his heart of servitude 




29th August 

Redifining Financed

by Hgarvey Daniel Esquire |
Categories: father, girlfriend-boyfriend, love, me,

Where Are You Going - Part 2

Turn around Twenty Years
Turn around Twenty More
Turn around and watch LOVE Grow
With Barbara Jean EVERMORE

Where are YOU going My Beating HEART, Beating Heart
Barbara can take it, where Ever SHE goes
Will She show it with Pride, will she hide it inside
Will I EVER Relinguish The Tears I have Cried

                  To be Cont. 
Dedicated to My Most BeLOVEd Barbara Jean Gorelick

Note: I have been told by One I Respect on this site that I
can not Post a POEM in my name under the Chef's Site. This
Is one of many POEMS (250+) that Chef has not Posted  It is 
a 4 poem sequel. I Don't know much about Poetry Except what
 the Chef Has taught me : and He Taught me to Cook Kenny

by David Brown |
Categories: love,

La Recette De L'Amour

Love, 
is like a dish
of the finest 
haute cuisine,
prepared by equals,
to be shared, 
égales

There is no
chef de l'amour
in this kitchen of love,
there are only,
les deux amants
neither one is
le patron, 
waiting
to be served,
they are always,
les deux serveurs

The recipe
may be different
for each pair of chefs,
but les ingrédients
are always, 
the same
and it
must always be
prepared daily,
so it can be 
servi frais,
as it can't be 
frozen and saved, 
for another
day

by Caren Krutsinger |
Categories: travel,

Casa Angelina On Amalfi Coastline

fruity lemon fragrance wafts in this afternoon
tantalizing me are additional smells of homemade bread
Chef Luigi’s homemade Italian spaghetti sauce.
Real Italian, not the fake stuff.

my mouth waters; I wonder how soon until lunch.
Casa Angelina is more than a home away from home.
more than a mere vacation spot; she houses my family.
people who run her, know my name. They like me.
and I love them!

I stare past the lemon trees into the horizon.
my eyes are dazzled by the sparkly diamonds dancing on the bay.
it is a glorious day to be enjoying the Amalfi coastline.
I am a lucky woman. I know this as I begin to write.

by Chinedum Ekwobi |
Categories: age, celebration, child, devotion, love,

Bill To Pay On a Hill

As she felt the thrills,
Fanned out big nostrils,
Triumphant shout shrill...

No chef her son drills
But now meat he grills,
Fulfilled mum's song shrill!

Now,Daughter weaves frills
And as she does trills!

Son, Men took for dumb;
When he was born,numb;
Daughter worse than crumb
With the clumsiest thumb...

Rose shall climb a hill
To pay God's Praise Bill!

by Allan Terry |
Categories: food, for him, fruit, kiss, leadership, romantic love, sensual,

Toggle Berry Bread

WE HAD CAKE DAY AT THE RESTAURANT
WE HAD MORE 
THAN WE COULD BARE
WE DIDN'T WANT TO THROW THEM OUT
SO WHEN THE CHEF SAID HE COULD DO SOMETHING WITH THEM
WE THOUGHT IT WOULD BE A DESSERT
WE WERE WRONG !

16 PIECES OF POUND CAKE
 PLACED IN THE OVEN AND TOASTED.

6 EGGS
2 CUPS OF BUTTERMILK
2 TABLESPOONS OF CINNAMON
1/4 OF FLOUR
1/2 CUP OF SLICED ALMONDS
MAKE A BATTER WITH MILK FLOUR CINNAMON AND EGGS,
HEAT A LARGE SKILLET WITH BUTTER
DIP THE CAKE INTO THE BATTER AND FRY IN THE BUTTER
 SPRINKLE NUTS ON THE UPSIDE OF THE CAKE
AND FLIP COOK EACH SIDE GOLDEN BROWN
AND SERVE WITH SYRUP OR RASPBERRIES OR STRAWBERRIES AND WHIPPED CREAM.

by Jonathan J. |
Categories: life, love,

Use To Be Us

Oh to be in your kitchen once more 
To watch you work while I lean in the frame of the door 
To see what you make, and be there firsthand 
How you captured the science, I’ll never understand. 

I was always more of the chef, the cook
Experimental artist who wouldn’t look at a book 
But you are the baker, maker of delights 
As you pour in emotion as a poet when one writes. 

Oh how I long to be in your kitchen once more 
And my times with you weren’t a memory I store. 
How I long to hold again as you make something sweet
Warm cookies served with milk, memories favorite treat.

by Djeli Forchion |
Categories: black african american,

4-3-19

The clock face is broken and time continues,
No chef in the kitchen and food on the menus,
The sun is not shining and color bleeds forth,
I stumble and faulted and retain my worth.
Live life with love till death from birth.