Well Seasoned

The Seasons Of Life Come In Several Different Flavors

Some sweet, some bitter, some bland, but they all

Come together with –

A pinch of this and

A pinch of that

For what is an egg without


A pie with no sugar

A stew without pepper

Dough without yeast

Forever kneading?

The Embryo Of The Egg Has Much Potential

For reproduction, to carry on life until it is cooked

Boiled, scrambled or fried

Then it has died

Thoughts Are Like Churning Butter

Slippery and insoluble, incapable of being solved or

Explained, just as confusing as deciphering the

Difference between soluble and trans fats

As butter clogs the arteries, the thoughts clog the brain

To try to understand them is in vain

When one thought starts churning, a state of unrest


Agitating with increased speed, the center about

Which it revolves

Collecting oily globules that resist any understanding

And indigestible by the natural mind in its rightful


Until it forms a mind of its own, creating two minds

At war with each other

Why all this confusion that continues on and on?

When the thought is brought to mind, there is no

One to blame

This is a process of its own, of which I am powerless

To explain!

But In All Things Sweetness Overrules!

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