Cookie could cook cookie
The blue bottles, and pomegranate fills,
Ah! What a divine match of Summer.
The oysters besides the beaches, well roasted
and mother brushed their coats neat,
A lick on and within, their coat,
Wow, a flesh piece slipped within!
Winter has fallen,
her rich toffee cheeks brewed with some furrows,
Jars filled with nutmegs only,
Not a single praline cheese cakes in this winter
Oh mum, at least pack me a jar full of Gingerbread men
You, threw her out in one wintry night,
just for stealing my new toy?
Thousand a pennies, jingled in Dad's wallet
And did you steal them,
to show how decreasing order plays in practical ?
Servant she wasn't, servant she wasn't,
perhaps my favourite cook
Ohhh! I miss her and her cookies these days
I remember ,
Cookie could cook cookie!