sipid drool

Slowly and gradually it begins
with a pace that seems
that it will never reach the end.
A drip
at a time
A drop
to the bucket.
Then collected
and poured-
Poured into the pan
and then-
Slowly and gradually it continues
with a pace that seems
that it will never reach the end.
A degree
at a time
A slow
temperature rise.
It darkens
a bit
It ambers
a whit
It seems
a jot hotter
It tastes
a drip sweeter
but it’s still only water.
It boils and bubbles
and slowly it thickens
but it still isn’t thick
it’s just
a tick sweeter
a bit hotter
a whit darker
but still water
and still a long, long, long way to go.
Slowly and gradually it continues
with a pace that seems
that it will never reach the end.
A degree
at a time
A slow
temperature rise.
Then
suddenly
the boil roils and the bubbles burst
heating quicker than it did at first
getting thicker and thicker with barm emersed
getting darker.
It hisses and foams turning into a dome
of heaping froth and sudsing, seething, mellifluous broth!
Moments ago, it would never be done,
but oh how the palmates are suddenly turning!
It’s a frantic rush to save it and keep it from burning!
Removing the finish and adding some new
as saccharoidal varnish is brewed from the dew.
and hands getting scorched in the skin-searing steam
to scurry in a vicious flurry over a viscous slurry
to scoop up and pour out the musillaginous stream
until finally it all is off
to where it can cool
rapid
to be bottled
and become a
deliciously
liquid
delightfully
viscid
delectably
sipid
drool.

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