The kitchen is a workshop of a different kind,
With its own arsenal of craftsmen’s tools,
Knife and stove,
Whisk and cutting board,
It’s a form of alchemy,
Culinary magic,
If cast by a maestro,
An ambrosia made at home,
Via a process in artful motion,
The scents play a symphony in the air,
Following a conductor of a culinary edge,
From the humble ingredients,
Bland and squatting in the pantry,
To dishes worthy of an empress,
Regal and flawless in execution,
Euphoria for ones tongue.
Poison is everywhere,
Accepted as a necessity,
Chemicals of every dire strain,
Vile greens and eerie crimsons,
Foreboding browns and unassuming clear liquids,
Synthesized by white coats and labs,
Injected into all our feed,
They do not have baleful names,
But do you know their makeup?
I do wonder,
Is every atom reputable?
Chemistry is a risky game to play,
With far too many snake eye variables,
To you who claim your body as you own,
I ask you earnestly,
Do you truly know what you take in,
Which dire chemicals you ply?
WorldofHarley 