As Sparks Fly


I put my foot in this.
Stirred my pot, left it with a kiss.
I slaved and sweat  to make sure you were mine.
It simmered down the immaterial, and gave us the real deal.
This pot of love I’ve made came out more than just fine.
I’m willing to taste here and there, but I made this for you.
Though the cook should taste their own food,
I have nothing to prove.
To the oven to bake, make this our cake.
Our bread, our dough we share.
And as the heat rises
Nothin but great, no surprises.
Sparks starts to fly for what it’s worth

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