I walk into the kitchen and my adventure awaits
I get out a bowl and put in 1/2 cups of butter.
I look at the creaminess and imagine its fate,
Soon it will become a delicate structure.

Next, you sift the sugar gleaming in the light.
Looking at the two separate things in my bow,l
I mix it together and they do not fight.
They go together so easily and it fills my soul.

Across from me is the basket of eggs, clean,
brown, and round, right from my backyard.
One and two they look so pristine.
Yellow in the center and the whites as its guard.

I open my creaky cupboard and grab the vanilla
I smell it, so sweet, but I taste it, it stings.
Its what gives it that something but its a killer.
Pouring it in as I sing.

Coco, its just like the vanilla, its bitter but sweet.
It get everywhere when I pour it,
it puffs up in a cloud of a sweet treat.
So fine and soft, it fills my spirit.

Finally, to finish the sweet brown goo
you add in a bit of flour,
it keeps it all it all together and completes the brew.
And just like that, it been a hour.