The pot on the stove quietly simmers,
The sizzling starting to splutter,
Tantalising aromas, enticing simpers.
Myriad hues come together,
The colours blend, like on a palette,
The sizzling starting to splutter.
Different spices, mushrooms and shallot,
Fraternising like long lost siblings,
The colours blend like on a palette.
They swirl slowly, it’s only the beginnings,
Moving in tandem, dancing ballet and salsa,
Fraternising like long lost siblings.
My comfort food in faraway Tuscaloosa,
Recently wedded to a stranger,
Moving in tandem, dancing ballet and salsa.
Thought my freedom was in danger,
The perception was in horse blinkers,
Tantalising aromas, enticing simpers.
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A very synesthetically appealing poem. Love the word play and analogy.
This is the most colourful terzanelle: you’ve made the experience of cooking so soo very exotic; synaesthesia -sounds, sibilants and consonance, the visual appeal, the imagery compounded with tropes is beautiful.