The Words at My Disposal

The words at my disposal
May be simple, even trite;
Yet they suffice to satiate
My rhyming appetite.

I spice them up as best I can
And simmer them with care,
At times attempting recipes
Exotic, if I dare.

Though usually my degustations
Match my aptitude;
I’ve sampled other sustenance,
But rhyme’s my comfort food.

And when I dish it out, I hope
That someone takes a bite.
It may not be gourmet, but hey,
I think it tastes all right.