Poems

Pancakes

Today, I wake without a plan

but know I must make cakes of pan.  

The stuff of life placed in a bowl,

I stir and mix to make it whole.

The flour, the sugar, the runny eggs,

the salt, the syrup and milky dregs, 

I mix and stir until it's smooth,

then set a flame upon the stove.

 

Dollops of batter one, two, three

bubble up with merry glee,

I flip them over one by one

making sure that they don't burn,

and when they're done and looking great,

I pop them out onto a plate, 

the finest breakfast in the land,

Shrove Tuesday morning cakes of pan.