Time to make the perfect dish
The tables set, everything is in place
But was it vegetable or fish?
You search your memory for the faintest of trace
Laying out the cutlery
The utensils and scribbled notes from early efforts up until now
Then one day
It slowly floats in view
For you to behold
Yes, then one day
How everything just grew
In search for fools gold.
Was it hot or was it cold?
So long ago, was it you, was it true?
Bits and pieces in a mould
Put together to what you pursue
Looking for the perfect recipe
Looking for something but not the way it was at all but how you recall
Then one day
You surprisingly behold
How all the days flew
Then one day
You've looked for something old
Instead of something new

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS