To be perfect they would be crispy
An offsetting texture to create balance
We mentioned it, but paid it no heed
Staring distracted, it happened by chance
A propane torch scorched the chèvre
Though not as well as it should
It might not have even been mentioned
Listening, consumed by each spoken word
Delicately placed pom pom mushrooms
Perhaps sautéed instead of grilled
So many flavors mixing throughout
Rousing, ravenous, meant to be devoured
Each bite brought something unique
Strawberries, asparagus, and chives
Too soon there was nothing left
Aside from one last irresistible bite
