Words are the ingredients
at my disposal.
What delicacy shall I prepare?
Shall I saute spicy or whip up sweet?
Working in batches, I stir then filter
syllables through slotted spoon.
Let tenderized words simmer.
Keep warm, cover and let stand.
Arrange and serve.
(For Marcus Goodyear’s poetry prompt at The High Calling. I’m considering that what’s in a word depends not only on each word chosen, but also how they’re put together.)