Culinary Nutcraker

The water fluttered under the glass boiling in envy of itself Marching to the sleek inner coating along the candid sphere like a band of drums ready for war bubbling in heavy camaraderie the steam spoke a final thought and charged on into the night "why cant I always bubble with such dignity" Hot chili peppers are so cold to the unknowing, red suit and all buttoned up for the battle to come Like a solider awaiting his shining moment on the front line they make their mark by the way they stand so still, Still like the nutcracker who comes to life only when awoke by the cheffly magician Like a dream they are waiting for magic to awaken their slumber As the night rumbles on under the black pot handle great snowy mountain rests its head it never rests And then as best it can hot water takes a stand to be noticed And the cool touch of my mixing bowl greets me a sprinkling of browned sugar today A nose of cinnamon to the taste clear glasses all in a row tumblers are tumbling across the floor on my toe My kitchen dances along the symphony's beat A sugar plum masterpiece of squash, steam, and meat And my fork waltzes to the tunes it plays like a string instrument to the waltzing flowers floating their way downstream I spill the spaghetti onto my shoe and the squash laughs a little I sing to the waters tune and the flowers smile a little A little more into the water I boil my egg friend and rinse him good I am interested in what you have to say to me tomorrow Rambling on to myself I am slightly dripping with sparkle and glee My ballet of baking completes its final scene I am scored from the day and seek pillows therapy Turning down the lights I fear for the moment in my mind when I remember all their might be missed in my kitchen symphony And all that was, and is, and what might be As the tile lay still, cold as fallen snowflakes in the night, I rest my head and dream And I awake again when standing behind the red curtain -Jess