In the kitchen where we met,

Holds a memory in my head.

You were cooking all alone,

Before I called you on the phone.

You didn’t know who I was,

Only that I called because…

I needed food in my system,

Something special, maybe wisdom.

You advised me to be hopeful,

That darkness wasn’t always mopeful.

I asked if we could have a meeting,

And you’d be pleased to have a greeting.

I saw your eyes and I just knew,

That the person there was you.

Now I’ve loved you three whole years,

Haven’t had to hold back tears.

For I feel content when you’re around,

Like I’ll never hit the ground.

Stay with me for this tradition,

Where I’ll meet you in the kitchen.