Occupation

A prolonged war with virus has worn her quite a bit Back home though from hosp she is still far from fit I don’t know how to cook can’t make a simple meal She drained of strength has to gather all her will. For she knows for all my rhymes I’m practically no good Won’t budge from my ignorance to make for us some food In the kitchen I tell her ‘show me how to make A few basic dishes I’m tired of cornflake’. She says ‘too late dear, know what I feel? You lost thirty years to grow some culinary skill’ Then she busies herself while I get lost in rhyme Her occupation is life saving, mine not worth a dime.