The skillet of cast iron
Harness the heat
ingredient blend in proportion
spices sinking deep
Each bit done for the craving mouth
nothing goes waste
expressed on the grateful tongue
That we know as the taste
Taste lies
not in the fire
That heats
Nor in the skillet
That suffers the heat
Nor in the ingredients
That is cooked
Nor on the tongue
That tastes
Taste lies
In the moment
that bring it all together
Taste lies
in the hand that stirs
That blends the family together
My Tales Within 