The cook

In a kitchen bright and cheery, Stood an oven, old and weary. With knobs that turned but never stayed, It left the cook in disarray. The baker’s dreams of golden crust, Were dashed by heat that couldn’t trust. One moment cold, the next a blaze, It set the kitchen all a-craze. “Oh oven, why do you torment?” The cook would cry, with heart lament. “For cakes that burn and bread that’s raw, You’re the worst I ever saw!” The timer ticked with mocking glee, As cookies turned to black debris. The roast, once juicy, now was dry, And all the cook could do was sigh. Yet still, each day, with hope anew, The cook would try a different brew. Adjust the rack, the temp, the time, In search of that elusive prime. But the oven, with a mind its own, Would never let its faults be shown. A mystery wrapped in steel and glass, A challenge that no one could surpass. So here’s to cooks with patience vast, Who face their ovens’ stubborn blast. May one day soon, your woes be done, And baking once again be fun.